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Forgive me, O Heavenly Father, according to the multitude of Thy mercies. I have lusted in my heart to break a man's skull and scatter the stench of his brains across several people's back yards.
Barbara Kingsolver
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Barbara Kingsolver
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: April 8
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Annapolis
Maryland
Back
Several
Skull
Heart
Forgiving
Skulls
Men
According
Multitude
People
Mercy
Multitudes
Across
Yards
Lusted
Break
Brains
Stench
Brain
Heavenly
Mercies
Father
Forgive
Scatter
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Be careful what you give children, for sooner or later you are sure to get it back.
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A person could spend most of a lifetime in retrospective terror, thinking of all the things one nearly didn't do.
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Eaters must understand, how we eat determines how the world is used.
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The reason most people have kids is because they get pregnant.
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I’ve seen how you can’t learn anything when you’re trying to look like the smartest person in the room.
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Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you figure out what you have to say.
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it takes your sleeping self years to catch up to where you really are. ... when you go on a trip, in your dreams you will still be home. Then after you've come home you'll dream of where you were. It's a kind of jet lag of the consciousness.
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What keeps you going isn't some fine destination but just the road you're on, and the fact that you know how to drive.
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I have my own sheep and I literally sheer the sheep and knot sweaters for friends and family from scratch.
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The friend who holds your hand and says the wrong thing is made of dearer stuff than the one who stays away.
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There is something in us that loves certain disasters and the fever of this moment and surrendering to that.
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A flower is a plant's way of making love.
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He was getting that look he gets, oh boy, like Here comes Moses tromping down off of Mount Syanide with ten fresh ways to wreck your life.
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It's a great freedom to give up on love, and get on with everything else.
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What we end up calling history is a kind of knife, slicing down through time. A few people are hard enough to bend its edge. But most won't even stand close to the blade. I'm one of those. We don't bend anything.
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There are some who'd hardly lift a finger for kindness, but they would haul up a load of rock to dump on some soul they think's been too lucky.
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Fiction and essays can create empathy for the theoretical stranger.
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What you lose in blindness is the space around you, the place where you are, and without that you might not exist. You could be nowhere at all.
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The way I see it, a person isn't nothing more than a scarecrow... The only difference between one that stands up good and one that blows over is what kind of a stick they're stuck up there on.
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You can be as earnest and ridiculous as you need to be, if you don't attempt it in isolation. The ridiculously earnest are known to travel in groups. And they are known to change the world.
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