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If I had never met him I would have dreamed him into being.

Anzia Yezierska

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Anzia Yezierska
Age: 90 †
Born: 1880
Born: October 29
Died: 1970
Died: November 20
Author
Novelist
Writer
Dreamer
Dreamed
Mets
Dream
Never
Would
Love

More quotes by Anzia Yezierska

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A man is free to go up as high as he can reach up to but I, with all my style and pep, can't get a man my equal because a girl is always judged by her mother.
Anzia Yezierska
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In America, money takes the place of God.
Anzia Yezierska
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Give a beggar a dime and he'll bless you. Give him a dollar and he'll curse you for withholding the rest of your fortune. Poverty is a bag with a hole at the bottom.
Anzia Yezierska
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Woe is me! Bitter is me! For what is my life? Why didn't the ship go under and drown me before I came to America?
Anzia Yezierska
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Though my father was poor and had nothing, the Torah, the poetry of prophets, was his daily bread.
Anzia Yezierska
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The only compensation for the artist is the chance to feed hungry hearts.
Anzia Yezierska
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Poverty was an ornament on a learned man like a red ribbon on a white horse.
Anzia Yezierska
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I tasted the bread and wine of equality.
Anzia Yezierska
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The world is a wheel always turning.
Anzia Yezierska
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The power that makes grass grow, fruit ripen, and guides the bird in flight is in us all.
Anzia Yezierska
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I was so obsessed and consumed with my grievances that I could not get away from myself and think things out in the light. I was in the grip of that blinding, destructive, terrible thing -- righteous indignation.
Anzia Yezierska
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Those who were high go down low, and those who've been low go up higher.
Anzia Yezierska
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Like all people who have nothing, I lived on dreams.
Anzia Yezierska
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The real thing creates its own poetry.
Anzia Yezierska
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Without comprehension, the immigrant would forever remain shut - a stranger in America. Until America can release the heart as well as train the hand of the immigrant, he would forever remain driven back upon himself, corroded by the very richness of the unused gifts within his soul.
Anzia Yezierska
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As one of the dumb, voiceless ones I speak. One of the millions of immigrants beating, beating out their hearts at your gates for a breath of understanding.
Anzia Yezierska