For every nineteenth-century middle-class family that protected its wife and child within the family circle, there was an Irish or... a German girl scrubbing floors in that home, a Welsh boy mining coal to keep the home-baked goodies warm, a black girl doing the family laundry, a black mother and child picking cotton to be made into clothes for the family, and a Jewish or an Italian daughter in a sweatshop making "ladies" dresses or artificial flowers for the family to purchase.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still,... And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The more I live here in western Europe, the more I am impressed by the sense of decay;Mnot the graceful and dignified decay of an ...oriental, but the vulgar and sordid decay of a bankrupt cotton-mill.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The white American man makes the white American woman maybe not superfluous but just a little kind of decoration. Not really impor...tant to turning around the wheels of the state. Well the black American woman has never been able to feel that way. No black American man at any time in our history in the United States has been able to feel that he didn't need that black woman right against him, shoulder to shoulder--in that cotton field, on the auction block, in the ghetto, wherever.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
To make life more bearable and pleasant for everybody, choose the issues that are significant enough to fight over, and ignore or ...use distraction for those you can let slide that day. Picking your battles will eliminate a number of conflicts, and yet will still leave you feeling in control.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Philanthropist. A rich (and usually bald) old gentleman who has trained himself to grin while his conscience is picking his pocket....LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There is a sound of music echoing Through the open door... And in the field there is Another sound tinkling in the cotton: Chains of bondmen dragging on the ground.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I am sure I do not know why the beauty of Monte Carlo should not satisfy more than it does. The bluest of all seas is nowhere blue...r than when you see it between the marble balustrades of the long white terrace before the casino, palms are nowhere greener than in that high garden which the mountain screen from every unkind breath, no colours could be more rich and various than those of the red and purple Alps that tower up behind the town, on whose summit such violent thunderstorms gather and break. But for me, at least, there was not at all the pleasure I had anticipated in this dazzling white and blue, these feathery palms and ragged Alps. ...I had a continual restless feeling that there was nothing at all real about Monte Carlo; that the sea was too blue to be wet, the casino too white to be anything but pasteboard, and that from their very greenness the palms must be cotton. ... in atmosphere and spirit the entire kingdom of Monaco is an extension of the casino.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »