Oh time…time, pass so that I forget! Oh time, Great Healer, pass over me and let me forget.
BETTY SMITHLook at everything as though you are seeing it for the first time.
More Betty Smith Quotes
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She had had the pain; it had been like being boiled alive in scalding oil and not being able to die to get free of it
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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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She had heard Papa sing so many songs about the heart; the heart that was breaking – was aching – was dancing -was heavy laden – that leaped for joy – that was heavy in sorrow – that turned over – that stood still. She really believed the heart actually did those things.
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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.
BETTY SMITH -
I 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 -
Oh, magic hour, when a child first knows she can read printed words.
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If you love someone, you’d rather suffer the pain alone to spare them.
BETTY SMITH -
Everything, decided Francie after that first lecture, was vibrant with life and there was no death in chemistry. She was puzzled as to why learned people didn’t adopt chemistry as a religion.
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A child forgets a time of hunger but never forgets the aching want of other things.
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Francie looked at her legs. They were long, slender, and exquisitely molded. She wore the sheerest of flawless silk stockings, and expensively made high-heeled pumps shod her beautifully arched feet.
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You 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.
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As long as one can suffer, one is living….live and suffer until life is gone.
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Yet, 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.
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But she needs me more than she needs him and I guess being needed is almost as good as being loved. Maybe better.
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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.
BETTY SMITH