Sarah McCoy Quotes

Tomorrow was a new day, with no memory or sentiments of yesterday.

We can't force life to do what we want when we want it. We can't change yesterday or control tomorrow. We can only live today as best we can. And it just might turn out better than expected

There was power in knowledge. Like the gears of a steam engine, the more active knowledge was, the more force it produced.

Using SROI to explore the value of our online question and answer service, askTheSite, helped us develop new mechanisms for speaking to young people and gain a real insight into the impact of our work. The project enabled us to demonstrate YouthNets commitment to robust impact measurement as well as our commercial approach to project evaluation. Perhaps most importantly, being able to assign a monetary value to askTheSite has enabled YouthNet to convey to current and potential funders how valuable the service is for both young people and the wider society in a language that they understand

But tomorrow was a new day, with no memory or sentiments of yesterday. How wonderful, she thought. How tragic .

Well the end is coming, isn't it? We spend our entire lives running from it. No speaking of it allowed. Fearing it for our loved ones." She shook her head and folded the burp cloth in her hand. "But after all we've seen of the world, I decided I'll get more joy out of the days I have left if I just acknowledge that death is part of life. The leaves on an apple tree blossom yield and fall. No use fretting over the sweetness of the fruit. Got to pick it when it looks ripe and move on. It's the fool who's forlorn over what he imagines he's lost. I'm sure that's in the Gospel somewhere." Even if it wasn't, Rachel would amend the text to her liking. The Word according to Rachel, as some complained. Not Marilla of course. Rachel was her closest friend, so she kept quiet, in Cuthbert fashion.

1945 Elsie, I hope this letter finds its way to your good hands. Tobias and I are among friends in Zurich. The news of the Allied invasion of Garmisch is bittersweet. Though we are German, our Fatherland is no longer a welcoming place. The Jewish families I hid for over a year - the Mailers and the Zuckermanns - lost nearly all their extended family members over the course of these wretched years. Thanks to your engagement ring, we were able to bribe the SS guards and smuggle Nanette Mailer, her friend, and the Zuckermanns' niece, Tabita, from KZ Dachau before the march. Unfortunately, Tobias's sister, Cecile, succumbed to

The marks on our lives are like music notes on the page
they sing a song.

Should we bury our memory barbs to keep them from piercing budding hearts? No doubt they will encounter their own tragedies in due time. Or should we warn our children that the world is harsh and men can be wicked?

Whether we're standing on the shores of the Pacific or the Atlantic, the water is the same. Love

It's our duty to love the poor, the orphaned, the weary and burdened. Matthew 11:28. Love can be its own kind of war.

We all tell little lies about ourselves, Our past, our presents. We think some of them are minuscule, unimportant, And others, large and incriminating. But they are the same. Only God Has enough of the story to judge our souls.

She felt a budding loneliness, and with it came the familiar emptiness that once threatened to swallow her whole.

Kings of a bakery? The very suggestion was laughable. How easy it was to assume that elsewhere was infinitely better than where you stood. Sometimes at night, she dreamed of the TEXAS, U.S.A. magazine advertisement, envisioning a land with row upon row of fat loaves laden with jeweled fruits; bread cubes sodden with thick lamb stew; sugar-dusted sweet breads, ginger-spiced cookies, and fat wedges of chocolate cake soaked in Kirschwasser. She'd awake with cold drool down her chin. Regardless of the family's lack of resources, one of Papa's famous Black Forest cakes had miraculously prevailed. Dressed in a layer of bittersweet chocolate shavings

Tears were misunderstood, she thought, and used inappropriately most often. They were designed as a private response of being. Because sometimes life filled you to the brim and spilled over. Tears were the body's way of cleansing the overflow of emotions, from sorrow to joy and so many others that couldn't be described.

Better she left him before he left her for someone young with a belly full of immortal possibilities.

I've never been fooled by the romantic, grand gestures. Love is all about the little things, the everyday considerations, kindnesses, and pardons.

Nothing secret about a recipe. It's how you put it together that makes it yours.

Human hearts are full of strife. It's a fallen world, my dears. We can only do our best to establish safe havens where we can.

People often miss things that don't exist
miss things that were but are not anymore.

By the time she lay down, the darkness was a friend not a foe.

Her father had proven to them all: when a beating heart stopped, there was no black or white, only blood-red.

That's the cruddy view from the Pacific coast this week. How's the world facing the Atlantic? Miss you. Love,