B.L. Brooklyn Quotes
Look at everything always as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time: Thus is your time on earth filled with glory.
Oh, magic hour, when a child first knows she can read printed words.
I think that I'd like to try to be a superwoman and have kids and work, so we'll see if I can actually accomplish that.
From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood.
She had become accustomed to being lonely. She was used to walking alone and to being considered 'different.' She did not suffer too much.
I'm not going to sit here and say, 'Pity me; I came from modeling.' It's opened a lot of doors. People will take meetings because they've heard the name before. That's an advantage that I have.
Brooklyn was a dream. All the things that happened there just couldn't happen. It was all dream stuff. Or was it all real and true and was it that she, Francie, was the dreamer?
I don't see myself doing catalog shoots in Madrid anymore like I was doing two years ago. I hope that the acting side of things grows.
They learned no compassion from their own anguish. Thus their suffering was wasted.
It's come at last", she thought, "the time when you can no longer stand between your children and heartache.
I loved the travel but I didn't love the work. I mean, come on, modelling is only so stimulating!
I really missed going to college. I missed not having that education and that experience.
But she needs me more than she needs him and I guess being needed is almost as good as being loved. Maybe better.
Everything, decided Francie after that first lecture, was vibrant with life and there was no death in chemistry. She was puzzled as to why learned people didn't adopt chemistry as a religion.
it's a rare day when she speaks in anything but platitudes--all those exhausted phrases and hand-me-down ideas that cram the dump sites of contemporary wisdom
As long as a man had the courage to reject what society told him to do, he could live life on his own terms. To what end? To be free. But free to what end? To read books, to write books, to think.
We live in a melting pot. More and more, people are some kind of mixture. Even if you're Caucasian, you're a mixture of something.
I have a really difficult time watching myself on film. I literally cower in my seat and cover my face.
I'm a pretty private person. I'm not "out there" out there. From living in New York City, I developed a certain awareness that you have to have when you live by yourself.
When you have parents who are recognizable, there's a certain part of you that wants to know that people you meet are able to not get clouded by that.
It was always a funny thing when someone would ask me my name and I would say "Brooklyn." They would always think that I meant that I lived in Brooklyn, and I would have to clarify that.
I was one of the serious studiers. I'm not somebody who just shows up and gets a hundred on a test.
When I was a kid, I always envisioned myself as performing, as being in that business. It was all that I knew, so it's kind of like I'm just following in the family tradition.
To me, my parents are my mom and dad, and we were able as kids to do a lot of cool things. Just being part of that family definitely brought out and cultivated the creative arts in us.
He should make you smile...always...and when he makes you cry it should be out of passion!
I was eleven, the idea of two identical digits in my age still new and spectacular and heartbreaking. The girls must have felt this. They must have known. Where had ten, nine, eight, and seven gone?
I look at him and realize, maybe I overreacted. Maybe more than once.
She sat in the sunshine watching the life on the street and guarding within herself, her own mystery of life.
Creating a novel means moving into the past, the hoped for, the imagined. It is an emotional journey, fraught at times with characters who don't always do or say what a writer wishes.
He was a character.A character who should still be here. Damn it all to hell.He should still be here.
I tell everyone who asks me about writing...almost everyone has an idea for a book, and some even have a great ending, but it's that 290 or so pages in between that are tough!
I knew I was lost inside the world, watching it and trying to understand why too often I felt like I was standing just beyond the frame—of everything.
Let's be real. Like I would date someone who didn't go out of their way to be my nemesis." - Shane Carver (The Carver's Magic)
They were all slender, frail creatures with wondering eyes and soft fluttery voices. But they were all made out of thin invisible steel.
But she didn't want to recall things. She wanted to live things — or as a compromise, relive rather than reminisce.
Who hasn't walked through a life of small tragedies? 'Sister Sonja often asked me, as though to understand the depth and breadth of human suffering would be enough to pull me outside of my own.
Dear God, ’ she prayed, ‘let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.
Three boys. Three deaths. One school. We've made the national news. Is out school cursed? Are we a reckless bunch of fools? The media asks questions no one can answer. Kids can't stop crying.
See that's exactly why I don't want a dog." "Why?" "Because it'll just die." "Everybody dies, Brooklyn." Like that makes it okay or something.
