Traditions are the guideposts driven deep in our subconscious minds. The most powerful ones are those we can't even describe, aren't even aware of.
Ellen GoodmanRead
Our 'mistakes' become our crucial parts, sometimes our best parts, of the lives we have made.
Interpretation
What this quote means
Mistakes are essential components of our lives, often leading to personal growth and improvement.
In this quote, Ellen Goodman emphasizes the significance of mistakes in shaping our lives. Rather than viewing errors as failures, she suggests that they can be instrumental in our development, contributing to our character and the richness of our experiences. Mistakes can lead to valuable lessons and insights, often becoming integral parts of our personal narratives and identity.
Themes
MistakesGrowthLifeLearningExperiences
In practice
Example use cases
During a motivational talk about resilience, one could use this quote to illustrate the positive aspects of failure.
More from Ellen Goodman
All quotes βThis packrat has learned that what the next generation will value most is not what we owned, but the evidence of who we were and the tales of how we loved. In the end, it's the family stories that are worth the storage.
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The central struggle of parenthood is to let our hopes for our children outweigh our fears.
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Parents remain our touchstones, fellow travelers, even after death. They are both missing and present.
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What do I want to take home from my summer vacation? Time. The wonderful luxury of being at rest. The days when you shut down the mental machinery that keeps life on track and let life simply wander. The days when you stop planning, analyzing, thinking and just are. Summer is my period of grace.
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My father used to say that if a man fools you once, he's a jerk. If he fools you twice, you're a jerk. Only he didn't use the word "jerk."
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As I apologized to her a flicker of panic raced through me and then faded away. There wasn't enough life left in me to panic. I'd made a mistake and I was dying. Apparently not even a Speck afterlife was available to me. I'd simply stop being. Apparently I hadn't died correctly. Oops.
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It haunted him all night, while he slept alone; it was still there in the morning, when he swallowed his coffee and backed down the driveway in the crumpled old Ford. And riding to work, one of the youngest and healthiest passengers on the train, he sat with the look of a man condemned to a very slow, painless death. He felt middle-aged.
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