Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
The bad thing about small-town life is that everybody knows your business...I suppose that is my central obsession. What we owe to society, what we owe to ourselves.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the complexities of living in a close-knit community where personal privacy is difficult to maintain.
Barbara Kingsolver's quote explores the tension between personal identity and societal expectations in small-town life. It highlights the idea that in tightly woven communities, individual actions and reputations are often under scrutiny, leading to a conflict between one's desires and the pressures imposed by collective norms. This contemplation raises fundamental questions about loyalty, privacy, and the balance between self and society.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
During a community meeting discussing local issues, you could quote this to emphasize the impact of communal scrutiny.
More from Barbara Kingsolver
All quotes βChildren can be your heartache. But that doesn't matter, you have to go on and have them . . . it works out.
I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved.
I did it to win love, and to prove myself capable. Not to move mountains. In my opinions, mountains don't move. They only look changed when you look down on them from great height.
Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.
Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own.
Similar quotes
I may be what my enemies desire me to be, yet never an accusation are they able to hurl against me which makes me blush or lower my forehead; and I hope that God will be merciful enough with me, to prevent me from committing one of those faults which would involve my family.
People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something.
Anarcho-syndic alism took for granted that working people ought to control their own work, its conditions, the enterprises in which they work, along with communities, so they should be associated with one another in free associations, and democracy of that kind should be the foundational elements of a more general free society.
Ideas, unlike solid structures, do not perish. They remain immortal, immaterial and everywhere, like all Divine things. Ideas are a golden, savage landscape that we wander unaware, without a map. Be careful: in the last analysis, reality may be exactly what we think it is.
I think that our comfort is in our history.
Complete adaptation to environment means death. The essential point in all response is the desire to control environment.