Quotes About Neighborhood

Shit, that's the exit," Deborah said, swerving hard for the off-ramp and effectively killing the mood, as well as guaranteeing that I lost all sense of what I had been about to say. The sign that flashed by, seemingly just a few inches from my head, told me we were heading for North Miami Beach, into an area of modest houses and shops that had changed very little in the last twenty years. It seemed like a very odd neighborhood for a cannibal. Deborah

Hell's Kitchen in Manhattan.

We had rarely seen our fathers in work boots before, toiling in the earth and wielding brand-new root clippers. They struggled with the fence, bent over like Marines hoisting the flag on Iwo Jima. It was the greatest show of common effort we could remember in our neighborhood, all those lawyers, doctors, and mortgage bankers locked arm in arm in the trench, with our mothers bringing out orange Kool-Aid, and for a moment our century was noble again.

Out past the weekly glimpsed windows, out past the street, lived the world, which had, Old Mrs. Karafilis knew, been dying for years.

My mother looks surprisingly pliable in those old snapshots, as though she liked nothing better than to have her man in uniform arrange her against the porches and lampposts of their humble neighborhood.

There are two kinds of houses in the neighborhood where I grew up-the ones where the parents stayed married, and the ones where they didn't.

A mockingbird has moved into our neighborhood. It perches atop a telephone pole behind our backyard. Every morning it is the first thing I hear. It is impossible to be unhappy when listening to a mockingbird. So stuffed with songs it is, it can't seem to make up it's mind which to sing first, so it sings them all, a dozen different songs at once, in a dozen different voices. On and on it sings without a pause, so peppy, even frantic, as if its voice alone is keeping the world awake.

Before you promise to change the world, it makes sense to do the hard work of changing your neighborhood.

No bill works if it doesn't work in a zip code where somebody lives.

We lived in a tough neighbourhood where there were gangs, and although my mum made sure I studied at school, they also allowed me to follow my dream to play football.

I had this childhood dream that I wanted to be a doctor, but I came from a neighborhood and an environment where nobody around me was a doctor. I literally didn't know how one goes from studying in college to becoming a doctor.

I'm not an early adopter. I'll only start wearing new styles of clothing once they're practically out of date, and I won't move into a neighborhood until it's fully saturated with upscale coffee shops.

It's really kind of hard to be a suburb of nothing. If you don't have a downtown, you really don't have anything. It's hard to build a community around parking lots and subdivisions.

I grew up in this little city called Brampton. It's pretty suburban - there's not a lot going on. In my neighbourhood, specifically, there weren't a lot of other kids so I would just spend a lot of time inside.

There was never a single murder in my neighbourhood; there was barely a robbery. It was so suburban, it was almost disappointing.

Living modestly in a suburban neighborhood while trying to support four children through private school is not extravagant or living large.

Visually, I love the setting of suburbia.

I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago.

A stranger could drive through Miguel Street and just say "Sum!" because he could see no more. But we who lived there saw our street as a world, where everybody was quite different from everybody else. Mam-man was mad; George was stupid; Big Foot was a bully; hat was an adventurer; Popo was a philosopher; and Morgan was our comedian.

We are thirteen, almost fourteen, and these streets of Sea Cliff are ours.

It is goodness that gives to a neighborhood its beauty. One who is free to choose, yet does not prefer to dwell among the good - how can he be accorded the name of wise?

I sometimes have birthday parties for the kids in my neighborhood and then pretend to suggest that I am going to molest them to the parents. It's a hilarious prank even though I am not a paedophile.

Don't hang out in your old neighborhood with your new cars and flash it to guys who don't have that. The only thing you're doing is making 'em hate.

It's important that neighborhood life goes on as usual—otherwise, it's not only the stricken and their families who are victims, but Weequahic itself becomes a victim. At