Orna Ross Famous Quotes
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One good thing about it is how it wises you up early to what most men want from a woman.
When life disappoints, one must apply one's will, not crumple.
On Christmas Eve morning, hours before Zach left or Star arrived, my father asked me to kill him. I'd spent some of that night in a chair at the end of his bed. At one point, he woke and started to panic, then remembering,
When one is busy, as she was in Donegal, life whistles by. One struggles to keep up with oneself. It is vital, when one slows down, to be conscious of small things, small moments. To take pains.
Whatever happened to 'mother knows best'?
Women come more easily to that wisdom which ancient peoples, and all wild peoples even now, think the only wisdom.
You know, Mercy, it is really very simple." He took my hand. "He has no power, hon. Not unless you hand yours over.
If you can't change your mind, you can't change anything.
Our wound is our way.
The body has been used as a form of social control through the ages and how a mature economy can only achieve growth by making us feel abject, hungry and isolated from ourselves and each other. Making us hate ourselves from the inside out ensures we will overspend, over-consume and over-indulge ...
The eyes of the creative spirit can see in all directions.
He has had her today but he has not had her. No man ever shall.
Where there's life, there's learning, and the truth is always calling us out of our pride. If we don't harken, it will call louder, and throw a situation at us. A pebble at first. If we still don't listen, we'll get a stone. Then a rock. Then a great crashing boulder. We must learn, or die.
All our lives, we long, we long, thinking it is the moon we long for. So how, when we meet it in the shape of a most fair woman, can we do less than leave all others for her? WB Yeats
A great poet can give nobler and more precious gifts to his country than the greatest philanthropist or politician.
You can trust in nothing. Nothing is always there, holding all.
In ancient Ireland the soul had but to stretch out its arms to fill them with beauty. Now all manner of ugliness besets the world.
He has been preparing his life and his poetry for just such a woman, just such intermingling of beauty and sorrow and mystery. But a woman like her will not settle into the role of helpmeet or muse; she is too adventurous, too vital, too fond of sensation. She will want to be, an ally. An equal. What can he, a poor student of poetry, offer her? Only his words.
It takes a great reader to make a great book.
We who have seen the truth will reshape the world, and Ireland shall be our entrance to this world beyond words.
How could I not stand myself? Was I one person or two?
They were magnificent all right, with the magnificence that can only grow in the ground of great foolishness.
I need a pill." "What about the pump?" "No, a pill." I took the container, a new one, nearly full, from its place on the window, shook one pill
I shook my head, just as I had back then. "Let the one you've just had take effect," I said. "You'll feel better then." "There's no better for me." He put his fingers on my wrist, his grip surprisingly tight. "Please. Have mercy." But the pill was already beginning its work, or maybe it was the effort of making the request, of taking my arm, of saying such words. His eyelids began to droop. "You're a clever girl, always were," he whispered. "You know what to do." His eyes closed on the first compliment he ever gave me.
Calling all mothers! Some advice for you. If you have a little girl, don't be the kind of mother who says: "All I want is for her to be happy." No, no, no. Want her to be top of her class. Want her to become Chairman of the Board. Want her to marry a millionaire. Want something negotiable, so she has room to rebel. If all you want is for her to be happy, all she can do to separate from you is be miserable.
He loves the most beautiful woman in the world. And like Sir Lancelot, he shall love her exceedingly well.
How you do money is how you do life.
Mr. Yeats makes great poetry out of what he calls his unhappiness about me, and he is happy in that. - Maud Gonne
All indies self-publish but not all self-publishers are indie.
I came to hate how everything gets junked in America: the food processed and adulterated with sugar and fat; the clothes cheapened; the TV dumbed down; the sex commodified. So that no matter how much we're given, we never feel sated, we're always craving. I came to see how we're addicted to addiction.
We parked in the lot by the lake and as we emerged from the car, the mountains seemed to have closed in around us and the quiet was palpable, inescapable, underlined by the distant, humming rush of Poulnapass Waterfall.
When looked at from the woman's side of the bed-sheet, most tales take a turning.
It's good to have an end in mind but in the end what counts is how you travel.