More and more, when I single out the person out who inspired me most, I go back to my grandfather.
James Earl JonesRead
In the wintertime, in the snow country, citrus fruit was so rare, and if you got one, it was better than ambrosia.
Interpretation
The rarity and value of citrus fruit in snowy conditions makes it a precious treat.
This quote by James Earl Jones highlights the joy and appreciation of simple pleasures, particularly during difficult times. In the context of winter, where citrus fruit is rare, receiving such a gift is akin to receiving something divine and extraordinary, signifying how scarcity can enhance our appreciation for the things we cherish.
In practice
Sharing this quote during a winter gathering can evoke nostalgia for rare and cherished moments.
More and more, when I single out the person out who inspired me most, I go back to my grandfather.
Love was just a word to me. Until you came along and gave it meaning.
The goal wasn't to be a millionaire or to be a Hollywood star. That was not the goal. The goal was something about - the goal was to find the goal, but I knew where it was.
Just so you know, there's a space that only you can fill. Just so you know, I loved you then, I guess I always will.
You sang in church, you know, and you didn't act at all. You tried not to act, you tried to tell the truth. The idea of being a troubadour on the road singing for your supper was very disturbing to him.
There's nothing I would retire for, so I won't retire.
Like a shadow that does not permit us to jump over it, but moves with us to maintain its proper distance, pollution is nature's answer to culture. When we have learned to recycle pollution into potent information, we will have passed over completely into the new cultural ecology.
Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.
Nature does nothing in vain when less will serve; for Nature is pleased with simplicity and affects not the pomp of superfluous causes.
My work is the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird - equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
spring is super in the supermarkets and the strawberries prance and glow never mind that they're all kinda tart and tasteless as strawberries go meanwhile wild things are not for sale anymore than they are for show so i'll be outside, in love with the kind of beauty it takes more than eyes to know
I have thought that wild flowers might be the alphabet of angels, β whereby they write on hills and fields mysterious truths, which it is not given our fallen nature to understand.
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