Scott Bradley

“Well, it had been a good many years since I had thought myself very lovable, and I escaped to some degree this trap of shattered ego. I was lucky; I had found a village of people so poor and simple, so engaging, that I had been more interested in my feelings for them than in what they thought of me. And frankly, after eighteen years of farming in the Sacramento Valley, that terrible life-consuming rat race, I was desperate enough to accept almost any human relationship on almost any terms. Love is love, I decided. Just take it and don't analyze it away. "You're my friend; you're good; you give me pennies," some nameless kid from down the beach told me. My God, what is love in this whorehouse world of poverty? And was I shocked because I could buy love or because I could buy it with pennies?”
― Moritz Thomsen, Living Poor: A Peace Corps Chronicle

“One can rarely say enough about the kindness of Italians. One is always treated as a human being who needs unpredictable things—like a moment by oneself with a bottle on the beach. They have a true gift for what can only be called spontaneous delicacy.”
― Lawrence Osborne, The Accidental Connoisseur: An Irreverent Journey Through the Wine World

“And when death finds me,
I hope it whispers,
“Come now,
the fight is done,”
and takes my hand gently,
like an old friend
who understands
why I’m so tired.
I hope it says,
“You've carried enough,
let me hold this weight for you.”
I hope it promises,
“Here there is quiet.
Here you can rest.”
― Ticus Poetry, The Final Pause: Is this the end?

“Everyone you meet always asks if you have a career, are married, or own a house as if life was some kind of grocery list. But no one ever asks you if you are happy.”
― Heath Ledger