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Betty Smith

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

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  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    There had to be the dark and muddy waters so that the sun could have something to background its flashing glory
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    A person who pulls himself up from a low environment via the bootstrap route has two choices. Having risen above his environment, he can forget it; or, he can rise above it and never forget it and keep compassion and understanding in his heart for those he has left behind him
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    If in the years to be she were to come back, her new eyes might make everything seem different from the way she saw it now. The way it was now was the way she wanted to remember it.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    How could she be happy again if she couldn’t forget?
    Oh Time, Great Healer, pass over me and let me forget.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    To 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.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    And you grieve because you hadn’t held it tighter when you had it every day.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    “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, you’ll 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.”
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    something complicated and hard to get. Yet, what little things can make it up; a place of shelter when it rains—a cup of strong hot coffee when you’re blue; for a man, a cigarette for contentment; a book to read when you’re alone—just to be with someone you love. Those things make happiness.
  • chloeeburdetteцитує8 років тому
    “Forward? Nonsense! Send the card if you feel like it. I hate all those flirty-birty games that women make up. Life’s too short. If you ever find a man you love, don’t waste time hanging your head and simpering. Go right up to him and say, ‘I love you. How about getting married?’ That is,”
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