I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, youll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.
BETTY SMITHLook at everything as though you are seeing it for the first time.
More Betty Smith Quotes
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The world was hers for the reading.
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Look at everything always as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time: Thus is your time on earth filled with glory.
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Books became her friends, and there was one for every mood.
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Francie was ten years old when she first found an outlet in writing. What she wrote was of little consequence.
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A lie was something you told because you were mean or a coward. A story was something you made up out of something that might have happened. Only you didn’t tell it like it was, you told it like you thought it should have been.
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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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They learned no compassion from their own anguish. thus their suffering was wasted.
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As long as one can suffer, one is living….live and suffer until life is gone.
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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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New York! I’ve always wanted to see it and now I’ve see it. It’s true what they say– it’s the most wonderful city in the world.
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I’ll have a desk like this in my parlor and white walls and a clean green blotter every Saturday night and a row of shining yellow pencils always sharpened for writing and a golden-brown bowl with a flower or some leaves or berries always in it and books . . . books . . . books. . . .
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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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You won’t die, Francie. You were born to lick this rotten life.
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Occasionally there is a moment in a person’s life when he takes a great stride forward in wisdom, humility, or disillusionment.
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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.
BETTY SMITH