Quotes About Community

el extraño poder curativo de las palabras, de compartir el dolor y comprobar que otros también tienen su

years. Thanks to them, she was saved from boredom, one of the scourges of old age. The rest of the Lark House community was like the view of the bay: something to be enjoyed from a distance, without getting her feet wet. For

I am old-fashioned. I believe that one should have a personal doctor, a dentist, a hairdresser, and, of course, a trusted bookstore. I wouldn't think of buying books at random, without my bookseller's recommendation, no matter how good the reviews may be.

The only place as comforting as a friendly bookstore is probably your grandmother's kitchen. The sight of shelves packed with books of all kinds, the smell of printed paper and coffee, and the secret rustle of the characters that live in the pages warm up any heart.

A high school teacher for many years, Carme thought education was as important as bread, and that everyone who could read and write had a duty to teach those abilities to others.

His grandfather, he said, was from a traveling family—part of a group called the "Gringos"—signifying, here, not unwanted Americans but Greek-speaking Gypsies in Spain.

I was glad to see other faces and at the same time disappointed that the war had destroyed the enjoyment of the very experience of meeting people.

We danced and laughed into the morning. But gradually we stopped. It was as if we all knew that we could be happy for only a brief moment.

This was one of the consequences of the civil war. People stopped trusting each other, and every stranger became an enemy.

They always shared equally, even if all they had was a handful of nuts or a piece of fruit. Today she had brought back fried fish and stewed onions with bread and other things that you would not put together if you had the luxury of considering the pleasure of the mouth.

That morning we thanked the men who had helped bury Saidu. You will always know where he is laid, one of the men said. I nodded in agreement, but I know that the chances of coming back to the village were slim, as we had no control over our future. We know only how to survive.

There's a saying in the oral tradition of storytelling that when you tell a story, when you give out a story, it is no longer yours; it belongs to everyone who encounters it and everyone who takes it in.

I've got some real diehards down in New Zealand; I look after them and make sure they always get tickets.

People were nicer to me when I was in the arts. I experienced extreme racism in small-town New Zealand. Racism which really went away when I got into the arts.

I grew up in the New Zealand countryside. We didn't have television until I was 14, so sing-alongs were our only entertainment.

In New Zealand, we have a thing called 'tall poppy syndrome,' which, you might not have heard of it, but it's essentially where - it happens in small populations usually, but can actually happen in the U.K. - where, if someone sticks out, they get their head cut off because they are being outside the ordinary or they are showing off.

The reality is, we have had filled rooms wherever we've spoken, and in New Zealand, the left and the right have been coming together and saying, 'We believe in free speech.'

In New Zealand, men and women would not take a party seriously if it did not have a good gender - and increasingly racial - mix. It's not about being politically correct; it's just who we are.

I have a memory of this experience when I was young, watching 'Stop Making Sense,' the Talking Heads concert movie, which is one of the best concert movies ever, and I saw it in a full house in New Zealand, and everyone was cheering between songs, and you really felt like you were part of the audience at the gig.

I was pleasantly surprised with 'Salvage.' I went to Australia and New Zealand for the novel and met a lot of people who had experienced the earthquakes in Christchurch. They responded very strongly to the book because they had been through these natural disasters and were trying to figure out how to rebuild.

New Zealand is such a down-to-earth place.

We've had a debate about immigration in New Zealand for some time. Now what we're trying to champion in that conversation is a recognition that New Zealand has been built off immigration. I myself am a third-generation New Zealander.

Every time we go to New Zealand, it gets harder to leave. Everyone's always treated us like we're at home.

Where would we be without our friends? Honestly, every friend is so unique and special. I have my friends back in New Zealand; I have my friends in New York and California. Then you have your friends who are your family. Barbara Palvin falls into that category. I have a lot of love for all my friends.