Laura Bartnick > Laura's Quotes

“We have to recognise that there cannot be relationships unless there is commitment, unless there is loyalty, unless there is love, patience, persistence.”
― Cornel West, Breaking Bread: Insurgent Black Intellectual Life

“Never forget that justice is what love looks like in public.”
― Cornel West

“You can't lead the people if you don't love the people. You can't save the people if you don't serve the people.”
― Cornel West

“The country is in deep trouble. We've forgotten that a rich life consists fundamentally of serving others, trying to leave the world a little better than you found it. We need the courage to question the powers that be, the courage to be impatient with evil and patient with people, the courage to fight for social justice. In many instances we will be stepping out on nothing, and just hoping to land on something. But that's the struggle. To live is to wrestle with despair, yet never allow despair to have the last word.”
― Cornel West

“The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.”
― Mark Twain

“The truth of God's love is not that He allows bad things to happen, it's his promise that he will be there with us--when they do.”
― Janette Oke, Love Comes Softly

“I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“As for Leota, She had chosen to close her mind to the things she couldn't change and move forward. There were many good things in life to allow things beyond your control to destroy you.”
― Francine Rivers, Leota's Garden

“Sometimes you have to tell the truth, no matter how hard it is. Even when it doesn't change anything. People seem to make the same mistakes over and over again.”
― Francine Rivers, Leota's Garden

“Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.”
― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

“For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“Folks are usually about as happy as they make their minds up to be.”
― Abraham Lincoln

“A house without books is like a room without windows.”
― Horace Mann

“As a young woman in college, I had no inkling about the sufferings of old age. Proper communication would have informed me and transformed the situation, but in the dearth of it, there was chaos, even horror. The memory of it was shoved into a container at the back of my mind, and there it stayed until this past year. Could I have been more creative in finding answers and making sure the woman found peace? This kind of experience is the good dirt of a writer.”
― Laura Bartnick, Being Creative

“There are other sacred ordinances. When we think of them, we see communion, marriage, and baptism. Really, all three ordinances are theater pieces depicting God’s relationship with His beloved.”
― Laura Bartnick, Being Creative

“Inspiration consists of two-sided communication. From one person, expression flows into sensitive ears, recognition to the eyes, tastes to the tongue, or as a scent to a nose. Information flows from the one who is touching to another being touched and into the mind of the recipient. This is communication.”
― Laura Bartnick, Being Creative

“Every book, whether a picture book or a story book, is a hymn, a religious ode. The poetry sings because it resonates with your own experience and broadens it."
BEING CREATIVE”
― Laura Bartnick, Before Long: Let's Move!

“Every book, whether a picture book or a story book, is a hymn, a religious ode. The poetry sings because it resonates with your own experience and broadens it.”
― Laura Bartnick

“Lugilla’s fingers reached to Precious’ hand, but Precious slipped her fingers from the table and placed them in her lap. “I hope you understand, though I trust you and you’ve been good to me, I cannot call you my friend – prob’ly ever – because we are from two separate worlds, Mrs. Sanders.”
Lugilla swallowed and tried to sip her tea. “I do. Believe me. I do. But do not hesitate to confide in me or say so if I’m not treating you fair like.”
“One day on the other side…”
“Yes, one day when Jesus wipes away all tears from our eyes, we will be like Him and we will be true friends, I’m sure of it.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“Grandma told me once that she’d forgiven him the eternal seventy times seven, but I don’t think forgiveness looks good on either of ‘um. It pains me to look at her.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“She often felt inconsequential in the world.
It was only the sunrise and sunset, the clouds steadily moving overhead that provided her with the perspective of God’s long brush-like movements on earth. A history, an accounting, and miraculous interventions were moving along at a steady pace. Even if she couldn’t see the changes, changes were certainly turning as the hands on the clock turn. Someone was watching and ticking marks on a ledger.
“Dear Father in heaven, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, my Redeemer.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“IN DIRE STRAITS, WE HEAD STRAIGHT TO THE OCEAN

The good Lord answered Beryl’s prayer when Dorjan came home next. On the cusp of the rainy season, when porch sitting Beryl was more inclined to watch tufts of moisture hung from invisible threads in fairytale skies than her playing children, he announced, “I have a will ‘ta move ‘ta the land of Hollywood and ‘burgeoning coastal developments,” like he’d read that phrase in a magazine. Then, he pressed on the horn in case she hadn’t heard his hollering.
“I want a piece o’ that action, baby,” he said. “I can run my own company. ‘Reckon I know to do just about anything related to construction. Heya baby, why not?” He grinned as he rolled out of the driver’s seat. As she came down the steps to him, he smacked his thighs in a rhythm and did a fancy two-step. “The sun’s always shining. There’s bound to be work for me till I have no more need.” She went to hug him. “Lickety split, we’ll be going west… at the childr’n’s school break,” he said.
That’s just what the Hudsons did. They left their free-of-charge huge, white house to the older brothers and sisters, taking brother Dennis along in the back seat with three of the children.
Coalbert, sitting up front, sighed. “We’re just gonna leave the house like that? For someone other’n us to occupy, Daddy?” His heart was lying in that big white house with the wraparound porch.
“Small thing. The place is tainted. It ‘taint yours and it ‘taint mine.”
“I hope we get an indoor toilet, Mama!” Laila shouted.
“Your daddy’s set on getting all the new things where we’re going to.”
― Lynn Byk

“Two months later, Gail brought Bill home to meet her parents, and Beryl, a nervous mama having heard so much about the gallant Navy boy, served up her best pot roast with onions, a heap of buttery mashed potatoes with Gail’s favorite gravy, and boiled carrots for Sunday dinner. Before dinner was served, they sat on the porch and made homemade ice cream together. Gail sat on the ice cream bucket while Bill churned—abiding the flirting of Baby Lou and worldly Laila, though married with a baby.
The Navy boy couldn’t care less about the two sisters because he was busy pouring ice cubes and salt into the bucket, soon hidden again under Gail’s skirt.
Coalbert, the working boy, accompanied by his cute girlfriend, Ivy, wasn’t going to be outdone by a crew cut. He started making pig squeals and then said, “Come on, piggy, I wanna kiss you!” This was the story that humiliated Gail the most. She hated when Coalbert told stories from their Arkansas childhood.
“What’s with him?” Bill looked at Gail.
Coalbert took over and explained how Gail had fallen in love with the baby pigs they had bought to ward off starvation in Western Grove. “She’d run chasing them through the mud and shit, ‘Come on, piggy, I wanna kiss you!’”
Gail got off the ice cream bucket and walked into the house. Bill laughed and stayed on the porch with Coalbert and the sisters, shooting the breeze and catching up with stories to embarrass Gail.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“WATCH FOR POGO’S ABOUNDING SCHTICK
In February of 1957, Rich earned his next leave to visit Gail. The news did the job of making Gail’s choice glad.
She offered to meet him at the airport and watched curiously as he stepped off the plane wearing his casual blue airman suit.
“Nonstop?” Gail asked.
“Of course.”
“How does one get off a nonstop flight, Mr. Air Force, if it doesn’t ever stop?”
Rich stopped and looked Gail over. He didn’t get her joke.
“You have luggage?” she asked.
“Yes. One case. Over this direction.” He took her arm and led her down the corridor.
“Have you ever lost your luggage?”
“No. I haven’t flown commercially much.”
“I hear you can sue the airlines if they lose your baggage.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll win your case.” Gail skipped in front of her boyfriend and laughed in his face.
“What are you talking about, girl? I have no intention of suing the airlines.”
Gail’s teasing ceased. Rich obviously had no sense of humor. At least not her kind. Sobered, she let him take the lead.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“MORE ON THIS TIDY STORY AS IT UNFOLDS
“Here are your sheets, Mom, warm from the dryer. I’ll make us some lunch while you fold.”
Elsie knew not to do everything for her mother because getting her mother active would help her blood circulation and help dispel the swelling in her feet. She dropped the armload of laundry on the ottoman beside her mother’s lounger.
“I can’t fold sheets alone. Help me with these.”
Of course. What was she thinking? Elsie turned to grasp a couple corners of her mother’s queen-sized fitted sheet. “I need to relearn how to fold these things, anyway.”
Mother and daughter pulled and halved, tucked one corner inside another, and brought the ends together like partners in a square dance. Suddenly, Gail growled, “Oh!” Fed up, she grabbed the sheet from Elsie and wadded the whole thing into a roll. “I don’t remember how to do these things! Just stuff them into the linen closet, will you?” She laughed.
“Okay. I was hoping you’d teach me how to do it.”
“If you don’t know by sixty, daughter, it’s too late! My mom was always so good with linens. You should’a seen her linen closet. It was like the linen closets at Macy’s, all lined up. Mom took pride in her housekeeping, but I just don’t care anymore.”
Elsie was noticing how she no longer cared about much of anything either. The proverbial rug had been pulled out from under her, and though she went through the motions of taking Gail’s vitals, dispensing her meds and massaging her feet, they often had little to say to one another.
“Mom, why do you think the Bible says so often to remember this or remember that?”
“Does it?” Gail gasped, “—talk about remembering?”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“She should have taken a moment to do this little thing. Why had it skipped her mind?




With that small question, an answer crept to attention. “You were unpacking and putting your kitchen together. You were making dinner. For your husband. You were fixing your hair and putting on makeup to please him when he came home. Then, you were distracted and went to set the table for dinner…”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“Gail leapt from bed and went to sit in the tiny bathroom, seething with grief and anger. Then tears began to roll down her cheeks. To consider that her husband was arousing her as he spoke of his betrayal made her want to jump into the shower. That he expected this kind of arousal from her in a culture so far flung, confused her. The fact that he was not a virgin and further, that he hadn’t bothered to tell her this before the wedding, felt shameful.
Waves of rage washed over the building layers of regret for marrying Rich. The way he played with her in the telling of it!
His physical foreplay had readied her to try again, but now a sick feeling of remorse and hatred claimed her body. Gail stepped into the shower and steamed away her confusion, her disgust.
Gail wiped her tears and asked Rich to go sleep on the couch while in the same sentence informing him that she would be seeking counsel in the morning. She omitted saying what kind of counsel she would seek. She hardly knew herself.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“Gail bent over the face. Suddenly, she lurched backward. Her hand went to her forehead. “Oh! This is Lloyd Crocker, the love of my life! We were engaged at the end of high school. He was the nicest, sweetest boy, but I messed up.”
“You? How did you mess it up?”
“Oh, he took me to a party at his friend’s house and I started flirting with his friend for some reason, maybe to make him jealous; I don’t remember. So, Lloyd took me home and asked for his ring back. He said he couldn’t trust me. Oh, I was brokenhearted over him.
After I married Rich, Lloyd looked me up and we went for a walk. By then, he had a child and so did I. Oh, how I’ve regretted losing him. I hope he had a good life.”
Elsie recognized her mother’s feckless heart had never truly been rehabilitated. She could forget anyone if the next person in line seemed entertaining.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch

“Bereaved, she made it home, thanked the neighbor and headed to bed to sob herself to sleep.
Rich’s arrival from work was followed by a rattlesnake response to the two children wandering the house without supervision. Finding Gail in bed, he berated his wife for her selfishness.
Gail announced the miscarriage to Rich. “I hope you’re happy.”
He shrugged and said, “I’m sorry about that. Comm ci comme sa. You win some, you lose a bunch. I guess I’ll go fix spaghetti for the girls.”
She turned over to look him in the eye. “It was a beautiful, perfectly formed little boy,” she said with a tear-streaked face. Rich looked a little stunned at the news.
He heard his wife’s voice dull compared to the coursing blood in his ears. “Yes, he looked like you. His curls, his lashes…” Maybe he would have wanted a son, but the wheels of his mind kept turning. “There’s always another night, another baby to be had when he’s out of college, another son to be born when we’re more financially stable.” “If you wouldn’t have tricked me…”
“Into this pregnancy,” she finished his thought. “And so, you think you have tricked me back.”
― Lynn Byk, The Fearless Moral Inventory of Elsie Finch