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How many times already had I encountered the painful lesson that although we may wish for the barb to be pulled from our flesh, it leaves a welt that doesn't heal?

Arthur Golden

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Arthur Golden
Age: 68
Born: 1956
Born: December 6
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Chattanooga
Tennessee
Arthur Sulzberger Golden
Many
Painful
Barb
Although
Barbs
Lessons
Encountered
Already
Pulled
Times
Lesson
Wish
Heal
Doesn
Leaves
May
Flesh

More quotes by Arthur Golden

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She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret.
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I could no more have stopped myself from feeling that sadness than you could stop yourself from smelling an apple that has been cut open on the table before you.
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Every man has his destiny. But who needs to go to a fortune-teller to find it? Do I go to a chef to find out if I'm hungry?
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If you aren't the woman I think you are, then this isn't the world I thought it was.
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The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
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Water is powerful. It can wash away earth, put out fire, and even destroy iron.
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After all, when a stone is dropped into a pond, the water continues quivering even after the stone has sunk to the bottom.
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As an American man of the 1990s writing about a Japanese woman of the 1930s, I needed to cross three cultural divides - man to woman, American to Japanese, and present to past.
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By the time we arrived, as evening was approaching, I felt as sore as a rock must feel when the waterfall has pounded on it all day long.
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I went back to those graves not long afterward and found as I stood there that sadness was a very heavy thing. My body weighed twice what it had only a moment earlier, as if those graves were pulling me down toward them.
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I stumbled out into the courtyard to try to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us.
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What an unbearable sorrow it would be, to realized I'd never really tasted to things I'd eaten, or seen the places I'd been. What life would I have? I would be like the dancer who had practiced since childhood for a performance she would never give.
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His face was very heavily creased, and into each crease he had tucked some worry or other, so that it wasn't really his face any longer, but more like a tree that had nests of birds in all of the branches. He had to struggle constantly to manage it and always looked worn out from the effort.
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When we fight upstream against a rocky undercurrent, every foothold takes on a kind of urgency.
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A mind troubled by doubt cannot focus on the course of victory.
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For a flicker of a moment I imagined a world completely different from the one I'd always known, a world in which I was treated with fairness, even kindness-- a world in which fathers didn't sell their daughters.
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Adversity is like a strong wind. I don't mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. It also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are.
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Sometimes, he sighed, I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see.
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If a few minutes of suffering could make me so angry, what would years of it do? Even a stone can be worn down with enough rain.
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Nothing in life is ever as simple as we imagine.
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