If there was only one tree like that in the world, you would think it was beautiful. But because there are so many, you just can't see how beautiful it really is.
You won't die, Francie. You were born to lick this rotten life.
No, Katie never fumbled. When she used her beautifully shaped but worn-looking hands, she used them with surety, whether it was to put a broken flower into a tumbler of water with one true gesture, or to wring out a scrub cloth with one decisive motion--the right hand turning in, and the left out, simultaneously. When she spoke, she spoke truly with the plain right words. And her thoughts walked in a clear uncompromising line.
Suffering is also good, it makes a person rich in charachter.
I'll not punish you for having an imagination.
Oh, magic hour, when a child first knows she can read printed words.
The library was a little old shaby place. Francie thought it was beautiful. The feeling she had about it was as good as the feeling she had about church. She pushed open the door and went in. She liked the cmbined smell of worn leather bindings, library past and freshly inked stamping pads better than she liked the smell of burning incense at high mass.
Intolerance is a thing that causes war, pogroms, crucifixions, lynchings, and makes people cruel to little children and each other. It is responsible for most of the viciousness, violence, terror, and heart and soul breaking of the world.
Part of her life was made from the tree growing rankly in the yard. She was the bitter quarrels she had with her brother whom she loved dearly. She was Katie's secret, despairing weeping. She was the shame of her father staggering home drunk
The neighborhood stores are an important part of a city child's life.
It doesn't take long to write things of which you know nothing. When you write of actual things, it takes longer, because you have to live them first.
Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber as a word was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely and Shenandoah had a beautiful sound but you couldn't fit those words into Brooklyn. Serene was the only word for it especially on a Saturday afternoon in summer.
The Nolan's just could't get enough of life. They lived their own lives up to the hilt but that wasn't enough. They had to fill in on the lives of all the people they made contact with.
It meant that she belonged some place. She was a Brooklyn girl with a Brooklyn name and a Brooklyn accent. She didn't want to change into a bit of this and a bit of that.
She adapted herself to the split-second rhythm of the New Yorker going to and from work. Getting to the office was a nervous ordeal. If she arrived one minute before nine, she was a free person. If she arrived one minute after, she worried because that made her the logical scapegoat of the boss if he happened to be in a bad mood that day.
The world was hers for the reading.
It was a good thing that she got herself into this other school. It showed her that there were other worlds beside the world she had been born into and that these other worlds were not unattainable.
She had born a child but two hours ago. She was so weak that she couldn't lift her head an inch from the pillow, yet it was she who comforted him and told him not to worry, that she would take care of him.
There are very few bad people. There are just a lot of people that are unlucky.
It was so simple that a flash of astonishment that felt like pain shot through her head. Education! That was it! It was education that made the difference! Education would pull them ut of the grame and dirt.
She had had the pain; it had been like being boiled alive in scalding oil and not being able to die to get free of it
They learned no compassion from their own anguish. thus their suffering was wasted.
It was the last time she'd see the river from that window. The last time of anything has the poignancy of death itself. This that I see now, she thought, to see no more this way. Oh, the last time how clearly you see everything; as though a magnifying light had been turned on it. And you grieve because you hadn't held it tighter when you had it every day.
She had heard Papa sing so many songs about the heart; the heart that was breaking - was aching - was dancing -was heavy laden - that leaped for joy - that was heavy in sorrow - that turned over - that stood still. She really believed the heart actually did those things.
I need someone. I need to hold somebody close. And I need more than this holding. I need someone to understand how I feel at a time like now. And the understanding must be part of the holding.
We'll leave now, so that this moment will remain a perfect memory...let it be our song and think of me every time you hear it.
Katie had a fierce desire for survival which made her a fighter. Johnny had a hankering after immortality which made him a useless dreamer. And that was the great difference between these two who loved each other so well.
She was surprised at how tiny the school seemed now. She supposed it was just as big as it had ever been only her eyes had grown used to looking at bigger things.
I want to live for something. I don't want to live to get charity food to give me enough strength to go back to get more charity food.
Well, there's a little bit of man in every woman and a little bit of woman in every man.
More Betty Smith Quotations (Based on Topics)
World - Education - Life - Books - People - Library - Pain - Librarian - Beauty - Nature - Time - Suffering - Imagination & Visualization - Sadness - Place - Mind - Reading - Money & Wealth - Man - View All Betty Smith Quotations
More Betty Smith Quotations (By Book Titles)
- A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Franz Kafka - Tom Clancy - Thomas Hardy - Robertson Davies - Richard Bach - Nathaniel Hawthorne - Maxim Gorky - J. R. R. Tolkien - J. D. Salinger - Alexander Solzehnitsyn