Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed--sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be.
Jodi PicoultRead
It is so easy to presume that while your own world has ground to an absolute halt, so has everyone else's.
Interpretation
We often believe that our personal struggles are unique and that no one else is facing similar challenges.
This quote by Jodi Picoult highlights a common human tendency to assume that our own difficulties are unparalleled and that everyone else is progressing without any obstacles. It serves as a reminder that everyone experiences hardship and that we are not alone in our struggles, encouraging us to maintain empathy towards others and recognize the shared nature of life's challenges.
In practice
This quote can be shared in a motivational workshop discussing empathy.
Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed--sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be.
Whether it was power they sought, or revenge, or love-well, those were all just different forms of hunger. The bigger the hole inside you, the more desperate you became to fill it.
she told me she'd be a phoenix." The image of the mythical creature rising from the ashes glitters in my mind. "They don't really exist." "She said that depends on whether or not there's someone who can see them.
for 100,000 (dollars), you [can] flatten a house with a wrecking ball. Imagine how much less it [takes] to destroy something than it [does] to build it in the first place.
But if you seek forgiveness, doesn't that automatically mean you cannot be a monster? By definition, doesn't that desperation make you human again?
when you [lose someone], it feels like the hole in your gum when a tooth falls out. You can chew, you can eat, you have plenty of other teeth, but your tongue keeps going back to that empty place, where all nerves are still a little raw
Life is sometimes novel-shaped, mocking the efforts of those authors who, in an effort to make their novels life-shaped, spurn the easy symmetry and cheap resonance of reality.
So that's what I'm here to become. And suddenly, this word fills me with a brand of sadness I haven't felt since childhood. The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green.
You ain't got but one life. You ought to live it the way you want.
I was a child who went about in a world of colors... My friends, my companions, became women slowly; I became old in instants.
In my prayers every day, which are a combination of Hebrew prayers and Shakespeare and Sondheim lyrics and things people have said to me that I've written down and shoved in my pocket, I also say the name of every person I've ever known who's passed on.
A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.