Blessings For The Sick Quotes

When you express gratitude for the blessings that come into your life, it not only encourages the universe to send you more, it also sees to it that those blessings remain. ~ Stephen Richards

Alice Gray saved my life, not just once but many times. When I itched, she brought me plants to rub on my skin. When I was sick, she made me tinctures. She kept me company when I was at my lowest. She planted a garden for my health.'
'Sounds like a witch to me, Richard said bitterly. 'How else would she know those things?'
'She is a midwife, like her mother before her. Are you like the king now, thinking all wise women and poor women and midwives are carrying out the Devil's work? Why, he must be the largest employer in Lancashire. ~ Stacey Halls

People change for each other all the time. Take any love story, any great love story at all, and you'll see that people have to be willing to change if they're going to make things work out. Like Shrek, when Fiona tells Shrek that she's sick of his burping and farting and everything. And Shrek's like, 'I'm an ogre. Deal with it.' And Fiona says, 'What if I can't?' So Shrek takes that potion that turns him into a hunky prince. He does it out of love for Fiona. ~ Lauren Myracle

All those years when Ronni thought she was sick, all those years convinced that every mole was melanoma, every cough was lung cancer, every case of heartburn was an oncoming heart attack, after all those years, when the gods finally stopped taking care of her she wasn't scared. What a pity, she thought after the doctor first diagnosed her. Then, when she refused to believe it, after the second, and the third, agreed, she thought again, what a pity I wasted all those years worrying about the worst. Somehow now that the worst was upon her, it was peaceful, calming, as if this was what she had always been waiting for. Now that it was here, it wasn't scary at all. ~ Jane Green

This was another pretend, and here in a yard on a bench was his real wife, with sad, kind, tired eyes. The lesson of Mimmy and my dad was not for me. It was for her. It was for them. I was so sick with understanding that I was practically yelling at her. ~ Joshilyn Jackson

When I learned you were sick , I finally felt old for the first time. You will recover, and I never will. ~ Joseph Heller

Ever since people first existed, they have been doing all the things we label "codependent." They have worried themselves sick about other people. They have tried to help in ways that didn't help. They have said yes when they meant no. They have tried to make other people see things their way. They have bent over backwards avoiding hurting people's feelings and, in so doing, have hurt themselves. They have been afraid to trust their feelings. They have believed lies and then felt betrayed. They have wanted to get even and punish others. They have felt so angry they wanted to kill. They have struggled for their rights while other people said they didn't have any. They have worn sackcloth because they didn't believe they deserved silk. ~ Melody Beattie

May it [American independence] be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the signal of arousing men to burst the chains under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self-government. That form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately... These are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

[Letter to Roger C. Weightman on the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, 24 June 1826. This was Jefferson's last letter] ~ Thomas Jefferson

Do you know how to play?" I asked.
Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. "Goodness, Andrew, if it weren't for me you wouldn't know the first thing about marbles. Your brain is a regular sieve these days."
I tapped my forehead to remind her I'd been sick. She looked so contrite I felt guilty. "Will you teach me all over again?"
Hannah poured her marbles onto the quilt and sighed. Without raising her eyes, she said, "Girls my age are supposed to be ladies, but sometimes I get mighty tired of trying to be what I'm not."
Cradling an aggie almost as shiny as Andrew's red bull's-eye, she cocked her head, studied her targets, and shot. The aggie hit a glass marble and sent it spinning off the bed. Hannah grinned and tried again.
When all the marbles except the aggie were scattered on the floor, Hannah seized my chin and tipped my face up to hers. Looking me in the eye, she said, "If you promise not to tell a soul, I'll give you as many lessons as you want. No matter what Papa thinks, I'd rather play marbles than be a lady, and that's the truth."
"Ringer," I said sleepily. "Do you know how to play ringer?"
Hannah ruffled my hair. "You must be pulling my leg, Andrew. That's what we always play. It's your favorite game."
I yawned. "Starting tomorrow, we'll practice every day till I get even better than I used to be."
"When I'm finished with you, you'll be the all-time marble champion of Missouri. ~ Mary Downing Hahn

When I got home I mixed a stiff one and stood by the open window in the living room and sipped it and listened to the groundswell of traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard and looked at the glare of the big angry city hanging over the shoulder of the hills through which the boulevard had been cut. Far off the banshee wail of police or fire sirens rose and fell, never for very long completely silent. Twenty four hours a day somebody is running, somebody else is trying to catch him. Out there in the night of a thousand crimes, people were dying, being maimed, cut by flying glass, crushed against steering wheels or under heavy tires. People were being beaten, robbed, strangled, raped, and murdered. People were hungry, sick; bored, desperate with loneliness or remorse or fear, angry, cruel, feverish, shaken by sobs. A city no worse than others, a city rich and vigorous and full of pride, a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness. It all depends on where you sit and what your own private score is. I didn't have one. I didn't care. I finished the drink and went to bed. ~ Raymond Chandler

Never close your circle. We all have room for growth. Every person you meet is not out to destroy you. Blessings can come from connecting with the right people. That's why wireless service providers are always accepting new customers. When you set limits on your relationships, you block the possibility of gaining new opportunities. So instead of closing your circle, screen those you let in it. ~ Bianca McCormick-Johnson

I'm a sick woman, a madwoman, a ball-breaker, a man-eater; I don't consume men gracefully with my fire-like red hair or my poisoned kiss; I crack their joints with these filthy ghoul's claws and standing on one foot like a de-clawed cat, rake at your feeble efforts to save yourselves with my taloned hinder feet: my matted hair, my filthy skin, my big fat plaques of green bloody teeth. I don't think my body would sell anything. I don't think I'd be good to look at. O of all diseases self-hate is the worst and I don't mean for the one who suffers it! ~ Joanna Russ

The passion of hatred is so long lived and so obstinate a malady that the surest sign of death in a sick person is their desire for reconciliation. ~ Jean De La Bruyere

Right near the corner was a picture Neil didn't recognize at all: a shot of Neil and Andrew standing alone. They were bundled up in their matching coats and staring each other down barely a breath apart. It took Neil a moment to place it; the people packed into the background didn't look like a game crowd. The windows finally gave it away. Dan had taken this at Upstate Regional Airport on their way to play against Texas. Neil hadn't even realized she'd been watching them. Neil had gotten caught in a couple of her group pictures, but this was the only one up that had Neil's natural looks. Dan had even caught Neil on his right side, so the bandage over his tattoo wasn't showing. This was a picture of Nathaniel Wesninski; this was the moment Neil gave Andrew his name. Neil reached out to tear the picture down but stopped as soon as he caught hold of the edge. He'd come to Palmetto State to play, but he'd also come because Kevin was proof that a real person existed behind all of his lies. In May both Nathaniel and Neil would be gone, but in June this picture would still be here. He'd be a tiny part of the Foxhole Court for years to come. It was comforting, or it should be. Neil didn't think comfort should feel like such a sick knot in his stomach ~ Nora Sakavic

The world to-day is sick to its thin blood for lack of elemental things, for fire before the hands, for water welling from the earth, for air, for the dear earth itself underfoot. In my world of beach and dunes these elemental presences lived and had their being, and under their arch there moved an incomparable pageant of nature and the year. ~ Henry Beston

No one wants to suffer. No one wants to be lonely. No one wants to live in fear. No one wants to lose everything. No one wants their heart ripped to shreds. No one want to be sick. And, no one wants to die. But these things happen in life. So the least we can do is be there for others, as we would like others to be there for us. ~ Bryant McGill

The Lord is in all of our lives. He loves us. He wants to bless us. He wants us to seek His help. As He guides us and directs us and as He hears and answers our prayers, we will find the happiness here and now that He desires for us. May we be aware of His blessings in our lives. ~ Thomas S. Monson

Di's bouquet trembled in her hands. "Greg slept with my bridesmaid."

"Susie?" Min said, not surprised but sick just the same. "I knew she - "

"Worse," Di said."

"How could it be worse?" Min said and then the other shoe dropped. "Karen?"

Di nodded.

"Oh," Min said, trying to think of what to say as her rage rose. "Oh, honey." She put her arm around Di. "Tell me this was before he proposed to you and not - "

"Last night," Di whispered, and Min took a deep breath, corset or not.

"Son of a fucking bitch."

"Thank you," Di said, and sniffed.

"That whore, I swear I'll rip out every hair on her goddamn head." Min held Di tighter. "I'll nail her fucking chignon to the church door, the miserable bitch. And Dad will take Greg apart. He's been wanting to for months. ~ Jennifer Crusie

Some of you, we all know, are poor, find it hard to live, are sometimes, as it were, gasping for breath. I have no doubt that some of you who read this book are unable to pay for all the dinners which you have actually eaten, or for the coats and shoes which are fast wearing or are already worn out, and have come to this page to spend borrowed or stolen time, robbing your creditors of an hour. It is very evident what mean and sneaking lives many of you live, for my sight has been whetted by experience; always on the limits, trying to get into business and trying to get out of debt, a very ancient slough, called by the Latins aes alienum, another's brass, for some of their coins were made of brass; still living, and dying, and buried by this other's brass; always promising to pay, promising to pay, tomorrow, and dying today, insolvent; seeking to curry favor, to get custom, by how many modes, only not state-prison offences; lying, flattering, voting, contracting yourselves into a nutshell of civility or dilating into an atmosphere of thin and vaporous generosity, that you may persuade your neighbor to let you make his shoes, or his hat, or his coat, or his carriage, or import his groceries for him; making yourselves sick, that you may lay up something against a sick day, something to be tucked away in an old chest, or in a stocking behind the plastering, or, more safely, in the brick bank; no matter where, no matter how much or how little. ~ Henry David Thoreau

I found the other two in Bran's room, and one look at their faces made it abundantly clear that they felt no better than I did. Not that the Marquis had a red nose or a thick voice--he even looked aristocratic when sick, I thought with disgust. But Bran sneezed frequently, and from the pungent smell of bristic in the air, he had had recourse to the flagon.
"Mel!" he exclaimed when I opened the door. And he laughed. "Look at you! You're drowning in that kit." He turned his head to address Shevraeth. "Ain't anyone undersized among your people?"
"Obviously not," I said tartly, and helped myself to the flagon that I saw on the bed. A swig of bristic did help somewhat. "Unless the sight of me is intended to provide some cheap amusement for the warriors."
"Well, I won't come off much better," Bran said cheerily.
"That I resent," the Marquis said with his customary drawl. "Seeing as it is my wardrobe that is gracing your frame."
Branaric only laughed, then he said, "Now that we're all together, and I'm still sober, what's the word?"
"The latest report is that the King is a day or two's march from here, well ensconced in the midst of his army. Debegri is with him, and it seems there have been some disagreements on the manner in which you two are to be dealt with. Galdran wants to lay Tlanth to waste, but Debegri, of course, has his eye to a title and land at last."
Bran rubbed his chin. "Only one of that family not landed, right?"
"To the Baron ~ Sherwood Smith

As Latter-day Saints, we need not look like the world. We need not entertain like the world. Our personal habits should be different. Our recreation should be different. Our concern for family will be different. As we establish this distinctiveness firmly in our life's pattern, the blessings of heaven await to assist us. ~ Robert D. Hales

What are you doing?"
"Coming to pick you up in a little bit," he said. I loved it when he took charge. It made my heart skip a beat, made me feel flushed and excited and thrilled. After four years with J, I was sick and tired of the surfer mentality. Laid-back, I'd discovered, was no longer something I wanted in a man. And when it came to his affection for me, Marlboro Man was anything but that. "I'll be there at five." Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir. I'll be ready. With bells on.
I started getting ready at three. I showered, shaved, powdered, perfumed, brushed, curled, and primped for two whole hours--throwing on a light pink shirt and my favorite jeans--all in an effort to appear as if I'd simply thrown myself together at the last minute.
It worked. "Man," Marlboro Man said when I opened the door. "You look great." I couldn't focus very long on his compliment, though--I was way too distracted by the way he looked. God, he was gorgeous. At a time of year when most people are still milky white, his long days of working cattle had afforded him a beautiful, golden, late-spring tan. And his typical denim button-down shirts had been replaced by a more fitted dark gray polo, the kind of shirt that perfectly emphasizes biceps born not from working out in a gym, but from tough, gritty, hands-on labor. And his prematurely gray hair, very short, was just the icing on the cake. I could eat this man with a spoon.
"You do, too," I replied, trying to will away my spik ~ Ree Drummond

Father, thank You for all the blessings of provision, health, strength and renewal of youth which I can experience because of Jesus' finished work at the cross. Today, as I look to You and wait upon You, renew my youth and strength, so that I may mount up with wings like eagles. I want to run and not be weary, walk and not faint. Grant me good health all the days of my life. I want to glorify You in my body, enjoy all that You have blessed me with and be able to fulfill all Your plans and purposes for me! ~ Joseph Prince

On opening the incubator I experienced one of those rare moments of intense emotion which reward the research worker for all his pains: at first glance I saw that the broth culture, which the night before had been very turbid was perfectly clear: all the bacteria had vanished ... as for my agar spread it was devoid of all growth and what caused my emotion was that in a flash I understood: what causes my spots was in fact an invisible microbe, a filterable virus, but a virus parasitic on bacteria. Another thought came to me also, If this is true, the same thing will have probably occurred in the sick man. In his intestine, as in my test-tube, the dysentery bacilli will have dissolved away under the action of their parasite. He should now be cured. ~ Felix D'Herelle

He saw you cast into a river of life you didn't request. He saw you betrayed by those you love. He saw you with a body that gets sick and a heart that grows weak. He saw you in your own garden of gnarled trees and sleeping friends. He saw you staring into the pit of your own failures and the mouth of your own grave. He saw you in your own garden of Gethsemane and he didn't want you to be alone ... He would rather go to hell for you than to heaven without you. ~ Max Lucado

Look into his mind, his universe. We may think it's sick, but for him, this place is a little slice of paradise. A place where the dead are laid to rest. Just the place the Dominator would come. He walks around here and probably imagines a whole harem of sleeping women right beneath his feet. ~ Tess Gerritsen

The Bible calls debt a curse and children a blessing. But in our culture we apply for a curse and reject blessings. Something is wrong with this picture. ~ Doug Phillips

When a doctor arrives to attend some patient of the working class, he ought not to feel his pulse the moment he enters, as is nearly always done without regard to the circumstances of the man who lies sick; he should not remain standing while he considers what he ought to do, as though the fate of a human being were a mere trifle; rather let him condescend to sit down for awhile. ~ Bernardino Ramazzini

Take a minute to appreciate all the good things about yourself, and to be grateful for all the blessings in your life. Talk less, and when you do talk have noble conversations. Live, love and be free. ~ LaNina King

That was interesting.Who was that?"
Matt looks unhappy. "What?" I ask him.
"You'll talk to that guy,but you won't talk to us anymore?"
"Sorry," I mumble, and climb out of his car. "He's just a friend.Thanks for the ride."
Matt gets out,too. Cherrie starts to follow,but he throws her a sharp look. "So what does that mean?" he calls out. "We aren't friends anymore? You're bailing on us?"
I trudge toward the house. "I'm tired, Matt.I'm going to bed."
He follows anyway.I dig out my house key,but he grabs my wrist to stop me from opening the door. "Listen,I know you don't want to talk about it,but I just have this one thing to say before you go in there and cry yourself to sleep-"
"Matt,please-"
"Toph isn't a nice guy.He's never been a nice guy. I don't know what you ever saw in him.He talks back to everyone, he's completely unreliable, he wears those stupid fake clothes-"
"Why are you telling me this?" I'm crying again.I pull my wrist from his grasp.
"I know you didn't like me as much as I liked you. I know you would have rather been with him,and I dealth with that a long time ago.I'm over it."
The shame is overwhelming. Even though I knew Matt was aware that I liked Toph,it's awful to hear him say it aloud.
"But I'm still your friend." He's exasperated. "And I'm sick of seeing you waste your energy on that jerk. You've spent all this time afraid to talk about what was going on between you two,but if you'd bothered to ju ~ Stephanie Perkins

Aid the sick; thank the Divine Power for the state of equilibrium you are able to conserve. ~ Chico Xavier

Ronan was waiting in his family's stables. He played with the gloves in his hands as he stood watching Kestrel and Arin ride toward him.
"I thought you would take the carriage," Ronan said to Kestrel.
"To go riding? Really, Ronan."
"But your escort." His eyes cut to Arin sitting easily on the stallion. "I didn't think any of your slaves rode."
Kestrel watched Ronan tug at the gloves' fingers. "Is there a problem?"
"Now that you are here, certainly not." Yet his voice was strained.
"Because if you don't like the way in which I have come, you may ride to my house the next time you invite me, then escort me back to your estate, then see me safely home again, and go back the way you came."
He responded to her words as if they had been flirtatious. "It would be my pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, let's take some together." He mounted his horse.
"Where is Jess?"
"Sick with a headache."
Somehow Kestrel doubted that. She said nothing, however, and let Ronan lead the way out of the stables. She turned to follow, and Arin did the same.
Ronan glanced back, blond hair brushing over his shoulder. "Surely you don't intend for him to join us."
Arin's horse, perfectly calm up until this point, began to shift and balk. It was sensing the tension Kestrel couldn't see in its rider, who looked impassively at her, waiting for her to translate Ronan's words into Herrani so that he could pretend it was necessary. "Wait here," she told him i ~ Marie Rutkoski

The whole attitude of 'man against the world', of man as a 'world-negating' principle, of a man as the measure of the value of things, as judge of the world who places existence itself on his scales and finds it too light - the monstrous stupidity of this attitude has finally dawned on us and we are sick of it; we laugh as soon as we encounter the juxtaposition of 'man and world', separated by the sublime presumptuosness of the little word 'and!' But by laughing, haven't we simply taken contempt for man one step further? ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

If acts of service do not come naturally for you, it is still a love language worth acquiring. It is a way of expressing a sense of responsibility for the well-being of others. Albert Schweitzer said repeatedly " As long as there is a man in the world who is hungry, sick, lonely or living in fear, he is my responsibility." Helping others is universally accepted as an expression of love. ~ Gary Chapman

Can a reasonable man ever truly question the nobility of the heat engine he calls his body? What option does he have but to heap praise on his form, to self-adore, to admire, and to hold it up as the greatest statement of beauty in a beautiful garden? What, though, is to be admired in such a frighteningly fragile machine; a perilously needy contraption laced with kilometres of liquid and electrical conduits prone to leaks, rot, clogs, and short-circuits? What is there to be proud of in a machine that has an eight hour battery life and is predetermined to spend half its existence in a defenceless, catatonic coma? What is to be revered in a mechanism let loose in a sealed off room where almost everything - including its single source of light and warmth - makes it sick, but whose immune system functions by late entry crisis-response imitation? Where is the awe in a contrivance that freezes and dies if placed a little over here, or overheats and dies if placed a little over there? Where is the wonder in an instrument that is crushed to a pulp if dropped a little down there, or boiled away to nothing if lifted a little up there? Where is the marvel in an appliance where three-quarters of the planet's surface will drown it, and three-quarters of the atmosphere will asphyxiate it? What is there to be cherished in a machine born innately greedy and so utterly useless that it has to wait three years for its neural networks to hook-up and come online before it even begins to get a hin ~ John Zande

I hear people say they're going to write. I ask, when? They give me vague statements. Indefinite plans get dubious results. When we're concrete about our writing time, it alleviates that thin constant feeling of anxiety that writers have - we're barbecuing hot dogs, riding a bike, sailing out in the bay, shopping for shoes, even helping a sick friend, but somewhere nervously at the periphery of our perception we know we belong somewhere else - at our desk! ~ Natalie Goldberg

. You are overfed yet under-nourished. Your body needs specific nutrients to run properly
or you will get mentally and physically sick. I'm talking about illnesses such as heart
disease, some cancers, diabetes and depression, for starters. So, if you're not eating
the right foods - or your "toxic waste" is inhibiting nutrient absorption - your mind will
constantly "scream" at your stomach to eat more. It does this in the form of cravings
and hunger. Problem is, most people just eat more "nutrient-dead food" and your body
continues to starve and cravings spiral out of control. ~ Josh Bezoni

Where is everybody?"
"Hiding," she said. "Except for Doolittle. He was excused from the chewing-out due to having been kidnapped. He's napping now like he doesn't have a care in the world. I got to hear all sorts of interesting stuff through the door."
"Give."
She shot me a sly smile. "First, I got to listen to Jim's 'it's all my fault; I did it all by myself' speech. Then I got to listen to Derek's 'it's all my fault and I did it all by myself' speech. Then Curran promised that the next person who wanted to be a martyr would get to be one. Then Raphael made a very growling speech about how he was here for a blood debt. It was his right to have restitution for the injury caused to the friend of the boudas; it was in the damn clan charter on such and such page. And if Curran wanted to have an issue with it, they could take it outside. It was terribly dramatic and ridiculous. I loved it."
I could actually picture Curran sitting there, his hand on his forehead above his closed eyes, growling quietly in his throat.
"Then Dali told him that she was sick and tired of being treated like she was made out of glass and she wanted blood and to kick ass."
That would do him in. "So what did he say?"
"He didn't say anything for about a minute and then he chewed them out. He told Derek that he'd been irresponsible with Livie's life, and that if he was going to rescue somebody, the least he could do is to have a workable plan, instead of a poorly thought-ou ~ Ilona Andrews

As long as you are not conscious of your self you can live; but if you become conscious of your self you fall from one grave into another. All your rebirths could ultimately make you sick. The Buddha therefore finally gave up on rebirth, for he had had enough of crawling through all human and animal forms. After all the rebirths you still remain the lion crawling on the earth, the Chameleon, a caricature, one prone to changing colors, a crawling shimmering lizard, but precisely not a lion, whose nature is related to the sun, who draws his power from within himself who does not crawl around in the protective colors of the environment, and who does not defend himself by going into hiding. I recognized the chameleon and no longer want to crawl on the earth and change colors and be reborn; instead I want to exist from my own force, like the sun which gives light and does not suck light.

That belongs to the earth. I recall my solar nature and would like to rush to my rising. But ruins stand in my way They say: 'With regard to men you should be this or that.' My chameleonesque skin shudders. They obtrude upon me and want to color me. But that should no longer be. Neither good nor evil shall be my masters. I push them aside, the laughable survivors, and go on my way again, which leads me to the East. The quarreling powers that for so long stood between me and myself lie behind me. ~ C.G. Jung

We longed for this world. We coveted it, and we hoped. Even Lucifer, though he wouldn't say it, looked on with greed-softened eyes, infatuated. I deluded myself into thinking that yes, perhaps Elohim had taken him back. Perhaps Elohim had forgotten all, would set him up as a god over this rich and wild new world. The next blessings to come from El would be his, and ours." He shook his head with a brittle laugh, the sound slightly too high-pitched for such a big man.

We had skirted the MIT campus to arrive on Main, a block from my office building.

"And why weren't they? Why couldn't they be?"

He pulled over, put the car in park, and turned to look at me.

"Because then he created them."

"Them?"

"You. ~ Tosca Lee

Hang on, Pa, don't reach for yer shotgun just yet," I said, grinning over the protective streak I found funny, when there wasn't actually anything to shelterme from. "We were just circlin' the wagons, not having an orgy."
My dad suddenly looked like he might be sick. "Please don't ever say that word again."
"Wagons? ~ Rachel Vincent

There's a part of me wishes that Daddy would sleep his life away. A part of me that hopes that after all these years his drinking will finally catch up to him. That one day he'll just go to bed and never wake up. But who am I kidding with that dream? It's the people like Daddy, the wicked ones who go on living forever. It's like God puts people like Daddy on earth on purpose. Making them a test for the good people in the world. If you can withstand what the good Lord throws at you, by staying true to your goodhearted self, and persevering through all of the obstacles thrust before you, then you've earned a spot by his side in Heaven. I look forward to that day. I look forward to the day where I'll be smiling down from Heaven, wondering what made my daddy become so sick, twisted, and rotten. I look forward to the day when I can forgive him for everything he's done and watch him from a cloud up in Heaven, praying for his damned soul, while he's doused in flames, and burning in hell. ~ Lauren Hammond

Take students today They are in some ways freer than they were 60 years ago in their attitudes and commitments and so on. On the other hand they are more disciplined. They are disciplined by debt. Part of the reasoning for arranging education so you come out with heavy debt is so you are disciplined. Take the last 20 years - the neo-liberal years roughly - a very striking part of what is called "globalization" is just aimed at discipline. It wants to eliminate freedom of choice and impose discipline. How do you do that? Well, if you're a couple in the U.S. now, each working 50 hours a week to put food on the table, you don't have time to think about how to become a libertarian socialist. When what you are worried about is "how can I get food on the table?" or "I've got kids to take care of, and when they are sick I've got to go to work and what's going to happen to them?" Those are very well-designed techniques of imposing discipline. ~ Noam Chomsky

Then I catch myself and listlessly wonder again for which of my sins I am being punished. I am sick to death of this wound that will not close; of how my babyish heart mistakes any simple kindness from a woman for a breadcrumb trail leading to the soft love of a mother or the fond approval of a grandmother. I am tired of carrying this dull orphan-pain, for though it has lost its power to surprise, every season it still reaps its harvest of hurt. ~ Hope Jahren