Quotes About Community

Still, John Smith knew he had to have backing if he was to lead the colony successfully even for a few weeks. He would have deeply felt his responsibility to both the four hundred or so newcomers who had survived the hurricane as well as the approximately two hundred already living in Jamestown when the remnants of the 1609 fleet arrived.

Remarkably, all 150 men, women, and children on the ship were eventually brought safely to shore. Even the ship's dog was saved.

The passengers and crew gathered each morning and evening and each Sunday for prayers,

Everyone wanted to tell their stories and to know where they fit in their own fudoki. She was not that different.

Yeah. I mean, I work in a coffee shop. People here don't even see it; it's like this boring job for them—but every day people say hello to me; every day I meet someone new, who is round and bright and—scattery, made out of parts, plans and fears and love and worry and I don't even know what. I don't know how to explain it. Random and meaningful and beautiful. I know that doesn't make sense.

They like visiting wherever it is, sure. But this is their home. Everyone likes to come home sooner or later." "If they have a home," Aimee says. "Everyone has a home, even if they don't believe in it," Geof says.

Will the waters be rising soon? The waters will be rising soon. Find someone or something to cling to.

For me, unemployment and poverty in the Greater Montreal area is not mainly a problem of structure, or design, or statistics. It is a profoundly human situation.

It is re-enactment of the ritual feast, in which the eating of an animal's flesh, or a piece of cake shaped like a breast, signifies the coming together of human and divine, individual with collective, tribal ancestor with member of the tribe, human community with nature, or a woman with her own body and feelings.

To me, socialism was just common sense.

Families are like little villages. You know where everything is, you know how everything works, your identity is fixed, and you can't really leave, or connect with anything or anybody outside, until your physically no longer there.

Klamath was all about fishing and socializing and cooking and eating, and waking up the next day to start over again.

Families are like little villages. You know where everything is, you know how everything works, your identity is fixed, and you can't really leave, or connect with anything or anybody outside, until you're physically no longer there.

Our school was a microcosm of the world.

Participant Inc. gallery,

All the hours and years since then inside vans, on buses, in airplanes and airports, in recording studios and lousy dressing rooms and motels and hotels were possible only because of the music that sustained that life. Music that could only have come out of New York's bohemian downtown art scene and the people in it

I only attend church for hatches, matches, and dispatches.

I'm telling you this because I believe all our hearts run together in the same way. We collide and accrete and become something of a whole, an amalgam of hearts and dreams, of friends, neighbors, and fellow travelers who influence each other across generations.

The reason is that as spiritual seekers we don't fit into any of the groups in the social pecking order.

There is an entire industry out there that is aimed at making spiritual people feel special—all in return for a fee.

Places, she told herself, were not evil: they were what people made of them.

What I want my father's writing to keep teaching us is that at the table of writing, everyone is welcome. No voice without all voices.

I grew up in a utopia, I did. California when I was a child was a child's paradise, I was healthy, well fed, well clothed, well housed. I went to school and there were libraries with all the world in them and after school I played in orange groves and in Little League and in the band and down at the beach and every day was an adventure. . . . I grew up in utopia.

Then, later, we are told we cannot gather to worship. We must to go somewhere else if we wish to meet together and learn from Scripture. So we go. And when we meet again, I never take lightly listening to the Word. I think less of the good chicken dinner and more of the food of the spirit. I listen close. I remember. I hide the words in my heart.