#fe

As a former Catholic, and as someone who even today is not opposed to being called a Christian, I felt I had every right to use the symbols of the Church and resented being told not to. ↗

— Andres Serrano

#called #catholic #christian #church #even

As the 109th Congress continues to debate legislation that will affect the lives of immigrants, it is important for us to remember that we are a nation of immigrants. ↗

— Jose Serrano

#congress #continues #debate #immigrants #important

You pay a price when you have an objective sentencing system. That is, nothing is perfect. ↗

— Jeff Sessions

#objective #pay #perfect #price #sentencing

It is seldom in life that one knows that a coming event is to be of crucial importance. ↗

— Anya Seton

#crucial #event #importance #knows #life

The jazz chord substitutions in a country song... that was another thing that bent people's ears. I guess that my favorites are the unique ones. It's not how fast you play. It's that unique blending of different stuff I'm most proud of. ↗

— Brian Setzer

#bent #blending #chord #country #different

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go. ↗

— Dr. Seuss

#brains #choose #decide #direction #feet

But I did not want to be good. I wanted to be a writer. ↗

— Isabel Huggan

#writing #writing-life #home

Fear is the tax that conscience pays to guilt. ↗

— George Sewell

#fear #guilt #pays #tax

A freshly red-painted train caboose had, for decades now, made its home on a green, little patch of the world outside of the one-room post office. Every small town that I had ever been to had had a caboose. ↗

— Laura Miller

#home

We live, all of us, in sprung rhythm. Even in cities, folk stir without knowing it to the surge in the blood that is the surge and urgency of season. In being born, we have taken seisin of the natural world, and as ever, it is the land which owns us, not we, the land. Even in the countryside, we dwell suspended between the rhythms of earth and season, weather and sky, and those imposed by metropolitan clocks, at home and abroad. When does the year begin? No; ask rather, When does it not? For us – all of us – as much as for Mr Eliot, midwinter spring is its own season; for all of us, if we but see it, our world is as full of time-coulisses as was Thomas Mann’s. Countrymen know this, with the instinct they share with their beasts. Writers want to know it also, and to articulate what the countryman knows and cannot, perhaps, express to those who sense but do not know, immured in sad conurbations, rootless amidst Betjeman’s frightful vision of soot and stone, worker’s flats and communal canteens, where it is the boast of pride that a man doesn’t let the grass grow under his feet. As both countryman and writer, I have a curious relationship to time. ↗

— G.M.W. Wemyss

#country-life #countryside #sir-john-betjeman #time #village-life