There won't be any biographies of me because, for only one reason, lives spent between the house and the chicken yard do not make exciting copy.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the idea that ordinary lives may not seem exciting enough to be documented or celebrated.
Flannery O'Connor's quote expresses the notion that not all lives are filled with adventure or notable achievements that warrant a biographical account. It highlights how many people lead quiet, simple lives that, while perhaps lacking in glamour, are rich in their own experiences and depth, challenging the notion that only extraordinary lives are worthy of attention.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the beauty of everyday life.
Let me make no bones about it: I write from the standpoint of Christian orthodoxy. Nothing is more repulsive to me than the idea of myself setting up a little universe of my own choosing and propounding a little immoralistic message. I write with a solid belief in all the Christian dogmas.
What people donβt realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross.
If you live today, you breath in nihilism ... it's the gas you breathe. If I hadn't had the Church to fight it with or to tell me the necessity of fighting it, I would be the stinkingest logical positivist you ever saw right now.
Knowing who you are is good for one generation only. You haven't the foggiest idea where you stand now or who you are
He loved her because it was his nature to do so, but there were times when he could not endure her love for him. There were times when it became nothing but pure idiot mystery.
The beginning of human knowledge is through the senses, and the fiction writer begins where the human perception begins. He appeals through the senses, and you cannot appeal through the senses with abstractions.
I've been everywhere in the world, seen everything, had everything a man can have.
This means that we have barely disembarked into life, that we've only just now been born, let's not fill our mouths with so many uncertain names, with so many sad labels, with so many pompous letters, with so much yours and mine, with so much signing of papers. I intend to confuse things, to unite them, make them new-born intermingle them, undress them, until the light of the world has the unity of the ocean, a generous wholeness, a fragrance alive and crackling.
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!_x000D_ _x000D_ You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled._x000D_ _x000D_ Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring_x000D_ _x000D_ The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
Getting old is not a matter of age; it's a lack of #β movement . And the ultimate lack of movement is death.
He who starts behind in the great race of life must forever remain behind or run faster than the man in front.
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