He humbled you by letting you hunger, then by feeding you with manna, with which neither you nor your ancestors were acquainted, i...n order to make you understand that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
As I sit looking out of a window of the building I wish I did not have to write the instructional manual on the uses... of a new metal. I look down into the street and see people, each walking with an inner peace, And envy them--they are so far away from me! Not one of them has to worry about getting out this manual on scheduleLESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
My business is stanching blood and feeding fainting men; my post the open field between the bullet and the hospital. I sometimes d...iscuss the application of a compress or a wisp of hay under a broken limb, but not the bearing and merits of a political movement. I make gruel--not speeches; I write letters home for wounded soldiers, not political addresses.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Any owner of cats will know of what I speak. Cats come at dawn to sit on your bed. They may not nip your nose or inhale your breat...h or make a sound. They simply sit there and stare at you until you open one eyelid and spy them there about to drop dead for need of feeding. So it is with ideas. They come silently in the hour of trying to wake up and remember my name. The notions and fancies sit on the edge of my wits, whisper in my ears and then, if I don't rouse, give more than cats give: a good knock in the head, which gets me out and down to my typewriter before the ideas flee or die or both. In any event, I make the ideas come to me. I do not go to them. I provoke their patience by pretending disregard. This infuriates the latent creature until it is almost raving to be born and once born, nourished.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I'll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide:... Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan, Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" makes a giddy sound, not strong... Like "rent," "feeding a wife," "satisfying a man."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
How oft upon yon eminence our pace Has slackened to a pause, and we have borne... The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew, While admiration, feeding at the eye, And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We are always talking about being together, and yet whatever we invent destroys the family, and makes us wild, touchless beasts fe...eding on technicolor prairies and rivers.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A sche...dule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order--willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »