Quotes About Responsibility

God deals us all different hands. How we play 'em is up to us.

If you want to be treated like a mother, act like one.

No child is born a delinquent. They only became that way if nobody loved them when they were kids. Unloved children grow up to be serial murderers or alcoholics.

It (the sun) didn't really care how I felt, it was going to rise and set regardless of whether I noticed it, and if I was going to enjoy it, that was up to me.

Unlike diamonds, watches were practical. They were for people on the run, people with appointments to keep and schedules to meet.

If you want to be treated like a mother," I said, "you should act like one.

I hadn't been paying much attention to things like the sunrise, but that old sun had been coming up anyway. It didn't really care how I felt, it was going to rise and set regardless of whether I noticed it, and if I was going to enjoy it, that was up to me.

Helen and Buster got down and started praying with Mom, but I just stood there looking at them. The way I saw it, I was the one who'd saved us all, not Mom and not some guardian angel.

my promise that I'd protect her—the promise I'd made

The barn was dark from the storm, and we couldn't find the harness, which no one had used in years. Old Jake, who had sprained his good foot falling off a horse and was hobbling around worse than ever, started getting panicky at the idea of the dam giving out and washing away the cattle, but I told him to hush his mouth. We all knew what was at stake, and if we were going to save the ranch, we needed clear heads.

I've told you before, life's not about doing what you want.

For a while I considered dropping out of Barnard to help. It felt unbearably selfish, just downright wrong, to be indulging myself with an education in the liberal arts at a fancy private college while Mom and Dad were on the streets. But Lori convinced me that dropping out was a lamebrained idea. It wouldn't do any good

had all thirteen families in Horse Mesa register to vote, and on election day, Jim drove me into Tortilla Flats. I kept the ballots in one hand and my pearl-handled revolver in the other, daring anyone to try to hijack democracy by stealing the twenty-six votes I had been entrusted with. "Hold on, everyone!" I declared when I arrived. "The votes from Horse Mesa are here, and I'm proud to announce we had one hundred percent turnout.

He hired me on the spot for forty dollars a week, in cash. I was thrilled. It was my first real job. Babysitting and tutoring and doing other kids' homework and mowing lawns and redeeming bottles and selling scrap metal didn't count. Forty dollars a week was serious money.

For a while I considered dropping out of Barnard to help. It felt unbearably selfish, just downright wrong, to be indulging myself with

Mattie cocks her head. "Shame on you, then, Sallie Kincaid. You wanted to come back here to Caywood, assume your place in the Kincaid family, reminding everyone at every possible opportunity that you're the Duke's daughter, but now at the first sign of a family fight, you're saying you want no part of it. If you're truly a Kincaid, you don't have the luxury of sitting this one out.

Besides, I'm not taking anything that isn't mine, not forcing folk to do anything they don't want to do, just helping out the people of Claiborne County who through no fault of their own are in an awful bind. Obey the law and starve. Or break the law and eat. Not a lot to ponder there.

She's the one married to Dad. That was her choice, I said. She needs to be firmer, lay down the law for Dad instead of getting hysterical all the time. What Dad needs is a strong woman. A caryatid wouldn't be strong enough for Dad. What's that? Pillars shaped like women, Lori said. The ones holding up those Greek temples with their heads. I was looking at a picture of some the other day, thinking, Those women have the second toughest job in the world.

newspaper writer ought to get out of his office and see the way the world works. He could interview me about it. Or Aunt Faye. Because sometimes men don't take care of the women. And that's why we women need our jobs.

Slow down, Sallie." Tom puts a hand on my arm, and then in a gentler voice says, "Your aunt will be okay. We'll see to that." "She wouldn't have got hurt if I'd been there." "Sallie, I don't know if that's true, and you don't either. But I do know you couldn't stay in Hatfield when the Duke sent for you. You had to come back. You had no choice.

Mattie was right about one thing. I should have seen it all coming. I should have seen how much you were hurting, should have seen what Seymour meant to you, should have stopped him from leaving, should have spoken up, done something. If I had seen it coming, we could've fixed whatever was wrong, you and me, we could have made it work. But I didn't. So we can't. Jane was right. I was a danger to you. I never should have come back.

And yet, that day back when Tom told me about all those different laws, he had a thirteen-year-old's spotty understanding of the way the world works but he sure was right about one thing. What matters most are the laws made by the people close to you, the ones you depend on. Now that's Mary. I reach for the ax.

Because sometimes men don't take care of the women. And that's why we women need our jobs.

Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself.