Naomi Shihab Nye Quotes

What Did Exclusivity Ever Have To Offer But A Distorted, Unrealistic View Of The World? People Who Stuck Only To Their Own Kind Were Scared People.

I Want To Be Someone Making Music/with My Coming.

My Father Was Very Disappointed By War And Fighting. And He Thought Language Could Help Us Out Of Cycles Of Revenge And Animosity. And So, As A Journalist, He Always Found Himself Asking Lots Of Questions And Trying To Gather Information. He Was Always Very Clear To Underscore The Fact That Jewish People And Arab People Were Brother And Sister.

I Can Never See Fashion Models, Lean Angular Cheeks, Strutting Hips And Blooming Hair, Without Thinking Of The Skulls At The Catacombs In Lima, Peru.

Mystery: Everything Felt Better Before You Got There Than When You Actually Got There. When You Actually Got There, You Didn't Quite Have The Energy To Be There.

Like Our Parents Always Told Us Not To Like Firefighters Warn Against We're Playing Games And Making The Rules Up As We Go We're Matching Warmth To Warmth Starting Fires Burning Wishes Into Our Skin We're Hidden Holding Forbidden Lights We're Children Whose Fathers Have Never Taught Never Touch But We're Finding These New Flames We Smother At The Sound Of Footsteps.

I Still Have Everything You Gave Me It Is Dusty On The Edges. It Is Slightly Rotten. I Guard It Without Thinking. I Focus On It Once A Year When I Shake It Out In The Wind. I Do Not Ache. I Would Not Trade.

I Support All People On Earth Who Have Bodies Like And Unlike My Body.

Our Limbs Which Had Already Traveled Far Beyond Her World, Carrying The Click Of Distances In The Smooth, Untroubled Soles Of Their Shoes.

For You Who Came So Far; For You Who Held Out, Wearing A Black Scarf To Signify Grief; For You Who Believe True Love Can Find You Amidst This Atlas Of Tears Linking One Town To Its Own Memory Of Mortar, When It Was Still A Dream To Be Built And People Moved There, Believing, And Someone With Sky And Birds In His Heart Said This Would Be A Good Place For A Park.

The Thousands Small Birds Of January In Their Smooth Soaring Cloud Finding The Trees.

Peter Conners Stunning Prose Poems Are Packed With Keen Sensitivity, Dreaminess, And Wit. I Love His Time Travels, The Vibrant Layering Of Image And Detail. Try Taking Walks As You Are Reading This Book- The Dazzle Of Landscapes, Inner And Outer, Feel Replenished And Rich. This Is Language And Vision I Want To Come Home To Again And Again.