#m

You know, working as an actor, I'm always working within my own imagination. ↗

— Charles Keating

#always #i #imagination #know #my own

Old #64 chose... a gentle jog, fast enough to prove I was alive, slow enough to savor the cheers. They washed over me. They warmed me. I knew I could live without them but I loved them. ↗

— Jerry Kramer

#cheers #chose #could #enough #fast

I think there are a number of bishops - and I put Cardinal Mahony in that category - who listen too much to his lawyer and not enough to his heart. ↗

— Frank Keating

#cardinal #category #enough #heart #his

I feel fortunate that there was a place like the CFL where I could hone my skill and become a consistent football player and have a nice career. ↗

— Darren Flutie

#become #career #consistent #could #feel

With or without a Social Security fix, Americans don't have enough assets to retire on. There has to be a much larger debate. ↗

— Frank Keating

#debate #enough #fix #larger #much

If one takes pride in one's craft, you won't let a good thing die. Risking it through not pushing hard enough is not a humility. ↗

— Paul Keating

#craft #die #enough #good #good thing

I try to use the Australian idiom to its maximum advantage. ↗

— Paul Keating

#australian #i #idiom #maximum #try

I hope that the residents of my current district - from Quincy to Provincetown and the Islands - know that their well-being is my primary concern and nothing changes that. ↗

— William R. Keating

#concern #current #district #hope #i

He found himself grinning at her. His nervousness had disappeared, and suddenly he had a sense of his own size, his physical strength, his own brains and being. Four years, he had earned his own bread and keep, fended for himself, had not only remained alive and well but had put together a small fishing fleet of his own, and kept it alive and functioning and fought the wind and the weather and met a payroll of eleven men in his crews-and be damned with the lot of them if he'd go into a funk over which spoon or knife to use. ↗

— Howard Fast

#the-immigrants #family

Those who are close to us, when they die, divide our world. There is the world of the living, which we finally, in one way or another, succumb to, and then there is the domain of the dead that, like an imaginary friend (or foe) or a secret concubine, constantly beckons, reminding us of our loss. What is memory but a ghost that lurks at the corners of the mind, interrupting our normal course of life, disrupting our sleep in order to remind us of some acute pain or pleasure, something silenced or ignored? We miss not only their presence, or how they felt about us, but ultimately how they allowed us to feel about ourselves or them. (prologue) ↗

— Azar Nafisi

#father-daughter-relationship #iran #iranian-revolution #memoir #mother-daughter-relationship