Dear God,’ she prayed, ‘let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.’
BETTY SMITHDear God,’ she prayed, ‘let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.’
BETTY SMITHAnd that’s where the whole trouble is. We’re too much alike to understand each other because we don’t even understand our own selves.
BETTY SMITHThe world was hers for the reading.
BETTY SMITHYou took a walk on a Sunday afternoon and came to a nice neighborhood, very refined. You saw a small one of these trees through the iron gate leading to someone’s yard and you knew that soon that section of Brooklyn would get to be a tenement district.
BETTY SMITHYet, what little things can make it up; a place of shelter when it rains – a cup of strong hot coffee when you’re blue; for a man, a cigarette for contentment; a book to read when you’re alone – just to be with someone you love. Those things make happiness.
BETTY SMITHIt was a good thing that she got herself into this other school. It showed her that there were other worlds beside the world she had been born into and that these other worlds were not unattainable.
BETTY SMITHOh time…time, pass so that I forget! Oh time, Great Healer, pass over me and let me forget.
BETTY SMITHI want to live for something. I don’t want to live to get charity food to give me enough strength to go back to get more charity food.
BETTY SMITHThey learned no compassion from their own anguish. thus their suffering was wasted.
BETTY SMITHAs long as one can suffer, one is living….live and suffer until life is gone.
BETTY SMITHShe must start out believing in things not of this world. Then when the world becomes too ugly for living in, the child can reach back and live in her imagination.
BETTY SMITHThe library was a little old shaby place. Francie thought it was beautiful. The feeling she had about it was as good as the feeling she had about church. She pushed open the door and went in.
BETTY SMITHNo. I don’t want to need anybody. I want someone to need me … I want someone to need me.
BETTY SMITHI wrote about people who liked fake fireplaces in their parlor, who thought a brass horse with a clock embedded in its flank was wonderful.
BETTY SMITH…the reading, the observing, the living from day to day. It was something that had been born into her and her only – the something different from anyone else in the two families.
BETTY SMITHAll of us are what we have to be and everyone lives the kind of life its in him to live.
BETTY SMITH