The move away from writing poetry was gradual. It was a gentle slope into a muddy pond; it was a collection of choices. There was no one thing that took the pen from my hand. Life got in the way. Poetry was an elective. I elected to let it slip into the water. I elected to let my inner poet slide into that deep water and float there a long time, until at last I could no longer see her there drowning."- Nearly Orthodox. Angela Doll Carlson
Tell the truth, or someone will tell it for you.
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Stephanie Klein
In life you'll meet a lot of jerks. If they hurt you, tell yourself that it's because they're stupid. That will help keep you from reacting to their cruelty. Because there is nothing worse than bitterness and vengeance... Always keep your dignity and be true...
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Marjane Satrapi
I feel about Photoshop the way some people feel about abortion. It is appalling and a tragic reflection on the moral decay of our society…unless I need it, in which case, everybody be cool.
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Tina Fey
In my opinion, our health care system has failed when a doctor fails to treat an illness that is treatable.
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Kevin Alan Lee
Civilization is only possible for deeply unpleasant animals. It is only an ape that can be truly civilized.
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Mark Rowlands
More Quotes By Angela Doll Carlson
But no matter what my eyes report, there is beauty that lives under the skin, under the surface, under the standards set up for me by outside arbiters of what is good and true. Those arbiters are not always so reliable. They can be bought...
The move away from writing poetry was gradual. It was a gentle slope into a muddy pond; it was a collection of choices. There was no one thing that took the pen from my hand. Life got in the way. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>Poetry was an...
Sometimes, late at night, the words are only whispers— Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God. The quiet is kindness and gratitude and calm— Have mercy on me, a sinner. And I fall asleep like that, the words of the Jesus Prayer melting from English to...
When I am away from Liturgy for too long, I find I burn for it now, for the steadiness of the calendar, the words" that ring out in repetition, the heavy scented air. When I return each week, I am coming home again. Liturgy is...
