Charity is a cop-out so traditionally female in its apparent self-effacement that there seems resonant comfort in it. We're no lon...ger supposed to serve the imaginations of men who have dominated us. We are to give up ourselves instead to those whose suffering is greater than our own. Looking down is just as distorting as looking up and as dangerous in perpetuating hierarchies.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Jim Wilson: Cops have no friends. Nobody likes a cop. On either side of the law. Nobody. Captain Brawley: Is that what you wa...nt? People to like you? Then you're in the wrong business and you ought to get out. Jim Wilson: It's the only job I know. Has been for eleven years now. Captain Brawley: Then make up your mind to be a cop. Not a gangster with a badge.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
This is just a job like any other job. I do it the best I can. It's never enough but I do it. When I go home, I don't take this st...uff with me, I leave it outside. But you, the way you carry it around inside, you must like it! Maybe you think that makes you a good cop. The way you're going you won't be good to anybody! Not even yourself! Somebody had to tell you. To get anything out of this life, you got to put something in it. From the heart!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
An average English word is four letters and a half. By hard, honest labor I've dug all the large words out of my vocabulary and sh...aved it down till the average is three and a half.... I never write "metropolis" for seven cents, because I can get the same money for "city." I never write "policeman," because I can get the same price for "cop." ... I never write "valetudinarian" at all, for not even hunger and wretchedness can humble me to the point where I will do a word like that for seven cents; I wouldn't do it for fifteen.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I felt more than ever the necessity of my mission. But I went home out of spirits, I hardly know why. I must work by myself all li...fe long.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The foolish fears of what might happen. I cast them all away... Among the clover-scented grass, Among the new-mown hay, Among the husking of the corn, Where drowsy poppies nod Where ill thoughts die and good are born-- Out in the fields with God.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
"Dirty fellow!" exclaimed the Captain, seizing both her wrists, "hark you, Mrs. Frog, you'd best hold your tongue; for I must make... bold to tell you, if you don't, that I shall make no ceremony of tripping you out of the window, and there you may lie in the mud till some of your Monseers come to help you out of it."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
America is not so much a nightmare as a non-dream. The American non-dream is precisely a move to wipe the dream out of existence. ...The dream is a spontaneous happening and therefore dangerous to a control system set up by the non-dreamers.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »