Oh time…time, pass so that I forget! Oh time, Great Healer, pass over me and let me forget.
BETTY SMITHWell, there’s a little bit of man in every woman and a little bit of woman in every man.
More Betty Smith Quotes
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The 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.
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It 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.
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In teaching your child, do not forget that suffering is good too. It makes a person rich in character.
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But the penciled sheets did not seem like nor smell like the library book so she had given it up, consoling herself with the vow that when she grew up, she would work hard, save money and buy every single book that she liked.
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All of us are what we have to be and everyone lives the kind of life its in him to live.
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The difference between rich and poor”, said Francie, “is that the poor do everything with thier own hands and the rich hire hands to do things.
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In the cold of a winter’s night you got up and put your blanket on their bed so they wouldn’t be cold. You’d kill anyone who tried to harm the.
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Some people do crossword puzzles. I do books.
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And you must tell the child the legends I told you – as my mother told them to me and her mother to her. You must tell the fairy tales of the old country. You must tell of those not of the earth who live forever in the hearts of the people.
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Intolerance is a thing that causes war, pogroms, crucifixions, lynchings, and makes people cruel to little children and each other. It is responsible for most of the viciousness, violence, terror, and heart and soul breaking of the world.
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Is it not so that a son what is bad to his mother is bad to his wife?
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Oh, I wish I was young again when everything seemed so wonderful!
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Forgiveness is a gift of high value. Yet its cost is nothing.
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They learned no compassion from their own anguish. thus their suffering was wasted.
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No. I don’t want to need anybody. I want someone to need me … I want someone to need me.
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Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm.
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I tried my best to kill that man in the hallway. Then one sunny day, they walk out in all innocence and they walk right into the grief that you’d give your life to spare them from.
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From that moment on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again.
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Yes, when I get big and have my own home, no plush chairs and lace curtains for me. And no rubber plants.
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How much do they be paying you?” he asked mellowly. “The usual salary. A little more than they think I’m worth and a little less than I think I’m worth.
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This could be a whole life,” she thought. “You work eight hours a day covering wires to earn money to buy food and to pay for a place to sleep so that you can keep living to come back to cover more wires. Some people are born and kept living just to come to this.
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And always, there was the magic of learning things.
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There had to be dark and muddy waters so that the sun could have something to background it’s flashing glory.
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Eyes changed after they looked at new things. If in the years to be she were to come back, her new eyes might make everything seem different from the way she saw it now. The way it was now was the way she wanted to remember it.
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And 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.
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It doesn’t take long to write things of which you know nothing. When you write of actual things, it takes longer, because you have to live them first.
BETTY SMITH