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131 books
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225 voters
“Yes, now you know. Now you know! That’s what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those . . . of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know—that’s the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.”
― Our Town: The Timeless Pulitzer Prize-winning Drama
― Our Town: The Timeless Pulitzer Prize-winning Drama
“Anti-Americanism is not some bitter mental disorder inflamed by conspiracy theories and misplaced furies and envy. It is a broken heart, a defensive crouch, a hundred-year-old relationship, bewilderment that an enormous force controls your life but does not know or love you.”
― Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World
― Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World
“It is not hopeless,” he said with surety. “It is uncertain, and this is the cross God always gives us in life, uncertainty. But it is not hopeless.”
― Becoming Mrs. Lewis
― Becoming Mrs. Lewis
“You’ve got to love life to have life, and you’ve got to have life to love life.”
― Our Town: The Timeless Pulitzer Prize-winning Drama
― Our Town: The Timeless Pulitzer Prize-winning Drama
“Most everybody's asleep in Grover's Corners. There are a few lights on. Shorty
Hawkins, down at the depot, has just watched the Albany train go by. And at
the livery stable somebody's setting up late and talking. Yes, it's clearing up.
There are the stars doing their old, old crisscross journeys in the sky. Scholars
haven't settled the matter yet, but they seem to think there are no living beings
up there. Just chalk…or fire. Only this one is straining away, straining away all
the time to make something of itself. The strain's so bad that every sixteen
hours everybody lies down and gets a rest.
Hm…Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners…You get a good rest, too. Good night.”
― Our Town
Hawkins, down at the depot, has just watched the Albany train go by. And at
the livery stable somebody's setting up late and talking. Yes, it's clearing up.
There are the stars doing their old, old crisscross journeys in the sky. Scholars
haven't settled the matter yet, but they seem to think there are no living beings
up there. Just chalk…or fire. Only this one is straining away, straining away all
the time to make something of itself. The strain's so bad that every sixteen
hours everybody lies down and gets a rest.
Hm…Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners…You get a good rest, too. Good night.”
― Our Town
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Tweetybird’s 2025 Year in Books
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