Quotes About Acceptance

Being beautiful, was that for men?' 'Yes. Some women say that it is for ourselves. What on earth can we do with it? I could have loved myself whether I was hunchbacked or lame, but to be loved by others, you had to be beautiful.

The Doctor gave a modest shrug. "Well, I must admit that I made heads turn wherever I go. It's a burden that I just have to live with.

Do you know what it's like," he said, "to feel that you're in the wrong body?" "Well actually..." the Doctor began, wiggling his own fingers in front of his face.

The funerary banquet celebrates a life, often well lived, and the victory is in overcoming and accepting the change that death brings; honoring a loved one at death becomes victorious because it renews the living.

Sometimes you just had to let people be who they were, let them have their highs and lows.

After the first death there is no other.' Do you know who wrote that?

The first death changes everything, and all deaths afterward bring us back to the first death.

But here alone, not needing to take care of anyone else and not caring very much what happened because all the worst things had already happened, she stepped into the

After the first death there is no other.' Do

each time it would hurt less, and afterward she would love Lyon less, until one day there would be nothing left Ã¢â'¬â€ no hurt, and no love. She

You shouldn't call then anything. They're poor unfortunate people who cannot help the way they look

And it occurred to her that she was so used to turning over everything in her mind, as if each thought were an intricate shell found at the beach, that she had never truly known the value of simply accepting things as they were.

Wisdom comes when we acknowledge what we can never know.

May I not sit in judgment. May I be open to hearing and accepting the truth of what I am told. May my decisions be for the good of all concerned. May my work bring peace . . . Charlotte

No matter how big you get, it's still okay to cry because everybody's got a right to their own tears.

Look how beautifully black we are. And as we dance, I am not Melody who is sixteen, I am not my parents' once illegitimate daughter—I am a narrative, someone's almost forgotten story. Remembered.

If you come as softly as the wind within the trees. You may hear what I hear. See what sorrow sees. If you come as lightly as threading dew, I will take you gladly, nor ask more of you.

If someone had taken that book out of my hand said, You're too old for this maybe I'd never have believed that someone who looked like me could be in the pages of the book that someone who looked like me had a story.

It seemed like someone was always leaving someone, like that's the way the world worked—people were born and people died, people left and people came. It was like the world was saying you can't have everything you want at the same time.

What did it sound like...having someone call your name across a crowded school yard? How did it feel to turn to the sound of your name, to see some smiling face or waving hand and know it was for you and you alone?" —Staggerlee

Chapter 1 JEREMIAH WAS BLACK. HE COULD FEEL IT. THE WAY THE sun pressed down hard and hot on his skin in the summer. Sometimes it felt like he sweated black beads of oil. He felt warm inside his skin, protected. And in Fort Greene, Brooklyn—where everyone seemed to be some shade of black-he felt good walking through the neighborhood. But one step outside. Just one step and somehow the weight of his skin seemed to change. It got heavier. Light-skinned

Bro, how you doing? You holding on? Man, you know how it goes. One day chicken. Next day bone. Two old men talking

Guess that's where the tears came from, knowing that there's so much in this great big world that you don't have a single ounce of control over. Guess the sooner you learn that, the sooner you'll have one less heartbreak in your life. Oh Lord. Some evenings I don't know where the old pains end and the new ones begin. Fells like the older you get the more they run into one long, deep aching.

And it's not even strange that it feels the way it's always felt like the place we belong to. Like home.