Jenee Osterberg > Jenee's Quotes

“Beauty matters in a productive garden because a beautiful garden pulls people in.”
― Charles Dowding, Grow Together: 50 Planting Partnerships to Boost Your Harvests

“Chaos can also lead to creation, opportunity, and serendipity.”
― Chitra D. Nawbatt, The CodeBreaker Mindset: The Unwritten Rules for Success

“The coin of the realm for such professional people was not money, but the respect and admiration that the public held for people who were devoted to their education and their careers and allowed them to serve the public.”
― Mark C. Zauderer, Counsel, the Courtroom Is Open: Lessons from More Than a Half-Century in Law and Life

“Genius is measured not by static volume but by kinetic vision.”
― Rich DiSilvio

“No, I called about the donuts.”
― Chad Boudreaux, Mob Justice: A Scavenger Hunt Thriller

“by”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“Like snow melt
and passing leaves,
we show our faces
then are gone,
and like rivers we pour.”
― Don Hynes

“It's the mortal cup Jace, not the mortal toilet bowl.”
― Cassandra Clare

“I've heard it said that there are men who read in books to convince themselves there is a God. I know not but man may so deform his works in the settlements, as to leave that which is so clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and priests.”
― James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans

“They held each other and kissed and pushed each others' darkness into the corner, believing in each others' light, each others' dream.”
― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

“I’m not this unusual,” she said. “It’s just my hair.”

She looked at Bobby and she looked at me, with an expression at once disdainful and imploring. She was forty, pregnant, and in love with two men at once. I think what she could not abide was the zaniness of her life. Like many of us, she had grown up expecting romance to bestow dignity and direction.

“Be brave,” I told her. Bobby and I stood before her, confused and homeless and lacking a plan, beset by an aching but chaotic love that refused to focus in the conventional way. Traffic roared behind us. A truck honked its hydraulic horn, a monstrous, oceanic sound. Clare shook her head, not in denial but in exasperation. Because she could think of nothing else to do, she began walking again, more slowly, toward the row of trees.”
― Michael Cunningham, A Home at the End of the World