Quote

Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop.

Mary E. Pearson

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Mary E. Pearson
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: August 14
Teacher
Writer
SoCal
Mary E. Pearson
M.E. Pearson
Left
Breaking
Weaves
Doesn
Forth
Threads
Back
Golden
Weaving
Sometimes
Along
Knots
Way
Goes
Loose
Like
Stop
Continues
Chance
Hanging
Lives
Thread

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When your life has had few events to occupy it, it's amazing how a simple encounter can seem like an entire three-act play.
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My timing is off. But I had to get it out. Some things you have to tell, no matter how stupid they may sound. Some things you can't save for later. There might not be a later.
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Pieces. Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?
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It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.
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Which weakness shall I tell her? “I walk funny,” I say, and she’s satisfied with that. (inside joke)
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When you are perfect, is there anywhere else to go?
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I don't want five hundred billion neural chips. I want guts.
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It's the unknown that I fear, the bites of memories that still have no connections.
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I think that maybe forgiveness is like change - it comes in small steps. (256)
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Multiple closets for different needs. Overkill.
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Are the details of our lives who we are, or is it owning those details that makes the difference?
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Boredom reigns on all levels. The rain is a welcome change. I have seen the pond swell and the creek surge. I press my palm against the glass, imagining the drops on my skin, imagining where they started out, where they will go, feeling them like a river, rushing, combining, becoming something greater than how they started out.
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I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.
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On a small planet, where minute follows minute, day follows day, year follows year, where tradition marches on with a deafening, orderly beat -sometimes the order is disturbed by a dreamer, an artist, a scribbler - sometimes the beat is changed one person at a time.
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it is amazin, she thinks, how simple appearances can be created - a rush, a smile, a new coat of paint, a slow, calm voice, a hug, a new dress - a resolve to keep out questions and cling to secrets
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Picture yourself five years from now. Where do you want to be? Remember that. Every day. That's how you'll get there.
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Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.
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I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)
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There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you.
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It's other people who make us wise, and I haven't known nearly enough.
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