Appleton Quotes

The letter had been crumpled up and tossed onto the grate. It had burned all around the edges, so the names at the top and bottom had gone up in smoke. But there was enough of the bold black scrawl to reveal that it had indeed been a love letter. And as Hannah read the singed and half-destroyed parchment, she was forced to turn away to hide the trembling of her hand. —should warn you that this letter will not be eloquent. However, it will be sincere, especially in light of the fact that you will never read it. I have felt these words like a weight in my chest, until I find myself amazed that a heart can go on beating under such a burden. I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking. My love, you don't belong with a man like me. In the past I've done things you wouldn't approve of, and I've done them ten times over. I have led a life of immoderate sin. As it turns out, I'm just as immoderate in love. Worse, in fact. I want to kiss every soft place of you, make you blush and faint, pleasure you until you weep, and dry every tear with my lips. If you only knew how I crave the taste of you. I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you. I want you under me. On your back. I'm sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can't stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you've ever said to me. If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you. You would say it's too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can't be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast. If only you— And there it stopped.

By the time Brand Appleton reached the castle grounds, he had acquired a significant crowd. Never in the history of Toll had one man needed so many people to arrest him.

Don't all women feel the same? The only difference is how much we know we feel it, how in touch we are with our fury. We're all furies, except the ones who are too damned foolish, and my worry now is that we're brainwashing them from the cradle, and in the end even the ones who are smart will be too damned foolish. What do I mean? I mean the second graders at Appleton Elementary, sometimes the first graders even, and by the time they get to my classroom, to the third grad, they're well and truly gone -- they're full of Lady Gaga and Katy Perry and French manicures and cute outfits and they care how their hair looks! In the third grade. They care more about their hair or their shoes than about galaxies or caterpillars or hieroglyphics. How did all that revolutionary talk of the seventies land us in a place where being female means playing dumb and looking good? Even worse on your tombstone than "dutiful daughter" is "looking good"; everyone used to know that. But we're lost in a world of appearances now.

I don't want to brag or anything, but I'm sorta like a rock star to these people.

We become what we become because of other people, and because of what we do with whatever they throw into our lives.

If Preston Brooks with his attack had brought him near death, was it not his old friend Appleton who had observed, “When good Americans die they go to Paris”?

Thereafter the summer passed in routine contentment. Routine contentment was: improving our treehouse that rested between giant twin chinaberry trees in the back yard, fussing, running through our list of dramas based on the works of Oliver Optic, Victor Appleton, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. (...) Thus we came to know Dill as a pocket Merlin, whose head teemed with eccentric plans, strange longings, and quaint fancies.

Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris.

I haven't a clue what half of it means, but I feel it, I see it, and on some level I understand it completely.

Sooner or later, clockwork requires each piece to accept its nature or break. Hearts are no different.

Who would change anything if they felt nice and comfy all the time?

If one can travel through time, fate needn't be absolute.

Kong Haakon hadde latt regentskap være regentskap og slått seg ned på Appleton. Han var tilbake i den bekymringsløse tiden da han titulerte seg Prince of Denmark - King of Nothing.

You're ninety years old. What's one regret you wish you could change? That's it? That's the question, but here are the rules. You have to look for the grace of it, not the judgement, yours or anyone else's. You have to look for the answer in your passions, your art, your writing, the ocean, the faces of those you love, the ethereal things that give you joy. It has to feel light and free. If it doesn't, you're convincing yourself of the wrong decision.

Such dialogue attributions are sometimes known as “Swifties,” after Tom Swift, the brave inventor-hero in a series of boys’ adventure novels written by Victor Appleton II. Appleton was fond of such sentences as “Do your worst!” Tom cried bravely and “My father helped with the equations,” Tom said modestly.

Put your f***ing finger down now before I break it off.

Every shining jewel comes from a crushing it never knew it could survive. There's good waiting for you.

The ocean waves never question the shore, the sky never questions the rain clouds

there was more truth in a falling leaf

where is the reward in aging gracefully

The only way I can bear his absence is to keep looking for his presence.

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Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris.” I jotted down all those Paris quotes from Appleton, Emerson, Hemingway, and Henry Miller

According to Appleton, humans are most comfortable in situations where they can observe (prospect) and feel safe (refuge) at the same time. A window seat is a classic example—enclosed and part of the house, but with a view of what is outside—an architectural re-creation of the experience of being held in a mother’s arms.

A moment later Tom was standing before two well-dressed, prosperous-looking business men, who smiled pleasantly at him. “Mr. Thomas Swift?” interrogated one, the elder, as he held out his hand. “That’s my name,” answered Tom, pleasantly.

Now let’s have another go at that carburetor. There’s our weak point, for it’s getting harder and harder all the while to get high-grade gasolene, and we’ll have to come to alcohol of low proof, or kerosene, I’m thinking.

Rafe couldn’t seem to stop staring at Miss Appleton, who sat straight-backed in her chair, sipping carefully at her tea. He wanted to pull the pins from her hair and wrap it around his fingers. He wanted to tumble her to the floor. She looked so proper, so good, sitting there with her skirts precisely arranged. She made him want to be very, very bad.

damaon

vicious-looking hammerhead shark was zeroing in, directly behind his friend!

I don't believe you will, Tom. This time you have bitten off more than you can chew, to use a homely but expressive statement

Its

the St. Lawrence. They're working now in the neighborhood of Huntington, Canada, and the dividing line between the British possessions and New York State, runs along solid ground there. It's a wild and desolate part of country, too, and I haven't many men up there.

Tom Swift and His Photo Telephone

As soon as I found out the person speaking to me had rung off, I got the girl in the exchange." "And what did she say?" "That the call came from an automatic pay station in a drug store in town. I have the address. It was one of those telephones where you put your money for the call in a slot.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE Or Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health. Telling bow the girls organized their Camping and Tramping Club, how they went on a tour, and of various adventures which befell them.

REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, By Kate Douglas Wiggin. One of the most beautiful studies of childhood—Rebecca's artistic, unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of austere New Englanders. The stage version is

In another second he had turned on full power, the propellers whizzed with the quickness of light, and he rose in the air, off the shed roof, the live wire no longer entangling him. Then he made a short circuit of the work-shop yard, and came to the ground safely a little distance from the balloon hangar. "Saved! Tom is saved!" cried Mr. Swift, who had seen the act of Mr. Peterson from a distance. "He saved my boy's life!

Tom decided on going to Panama, to get a series of pictures on the work of digging that vast canal. On inquiry

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SERIES By LAURA LEE HOPE Author of "The Bobbsey Twins Series." 12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING The adventures of Ruth and Alice DeVere. Their father, a widower, is an actor who has taken up work for the "movies." Both girls wish to aid him in his work and visit various localities to act in all sorts of pictures. THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS Or First Appearance in Photo Dramas. Having lost his voice, the father of the girls goes into the movies and the girls follow. Tells how many "parlor dramas" are filmed. THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT OAK FARM Or Queer Happenings While Taking

This. He has come across some old manuscripts, or ancient document records, referring to this valley, and they state, according to this article he has written for the magazine, that somewhere in the valley is a wonderful city, traces of which have been found twenty to forty feet below the surface, on which great trees are growing, showing that the city was covered hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago.

Honduras, as you of course know, is a republic of Central America, and it gets its name from something that happened on the fourth voyage of Columbus. He and his men had had days of weary sailing and had sought in vain for shallow water in which they might come to an anchorage. Finally they reached the point now known as Cape Gracias-a-Dios, and when they let the anchor go, and found that in a short time it came to rest on the floor of the ocean, some one of the sailors—perhaps Columbus himself—is said to have remarked: "'Thank the Lord, we have left the deep waters (honduras)' that being the Spanish word for unfathomable depths. So Honduras it was called, and has been to this day. "It is a queer land with many traces of an ancient civilization, a civilization which I believe dates back

Don't worry, father. I'm not going far this time. Only to the Canadian border, and that's only a few hundred miles. But I want to see if I can cut the current off, and turn it on again. When a thing happens by accident you never know whether you can get just exactly the same conditions again." Tom shut off the current from the dynamo, and the powerful beam of light died out. Then he turned it on once more, and it glowed as brightly as before. He did this several times, and each time it was a success. "Hurrah!" cried Tom. "To-morrow I'll start on my latest invention, a great searchlight!

lots of them. One was in the Eiffel Tower, during the Paris Exposition. I didn't see that, but I have read about it. Another is in one of the twin lighthouses at the Highlands, on the Atlantic coast of New Jersey, just above Asbury Park. That light is of ninety-five million candle power, and the lighthouse keeper there told me it was visible, on a clear night, as far as the New Haven, Connecticut, lighthouse, a distance of fifty miles.

And he then related how he had accidently discovered a new way to connect the wires, so as to get, from a dynamo and a storage battery a much stronger, and different, current than usual.

The powder was in gelatin form, being made with nitro-glycerine as a base. It looked, as Mr. Damon had said, like a bunch of excelsior, only it was yellow instead of white, and it felt not unlike pieces of dry macaroni

…correcting minor facts when I’m telling a story.” Unless you’re in court, it’s probably okay if your husband gets a couple inconsequential facts wrong when he’s telling an amusing story to a group of friends. If you can add some helpful context or bonus humor to the tale, go for it. Rita and I often tag-team when we tell stories about our kids. But if he says the baseball tournament was in Appleton, and it was actually in Oshkosh, what difference does it make?

I do not want to understand life's mystery, I want to be a part of it.

CLEAR THINKERS REQUIRED Tom Donohue, president and CEO of the three-million-member-strong U.S. Chamber of Commerce, organizes very popular small dinners and invites a wide variety of guests. The express purpose is the exchange of ideas. Tom brings together twenty titans of industry and empowers each with just one minute to talk on a key issue. Then Tom makes his summation. He connects all the dots in a masterful fashion, tying together what everyone has said. Chamber board member Barry Appleton says, “It is this distilled knowledge of clear and concise thinking that is the magic that keeps everyone coming back for more.

He depressed the rudder, and the Red Cloud shot earthward. Then, as the airship was turned about, the young inventor was allowed to try his hand at managing it. He said, afterward, that it was like guiding a fleecy cloud.

break my spirit if you can

ho sete per tutto quello che mi sono perdutto nella vita

how did I end up in this eternal sea of plastic and electric lights

Don't go looking for love, you must let it find you

Drink Wisconsinbly: Drink excessively. When 24/7 Wall Street came out with a list of the 20 drunkest cities in America, 12 were in Wisconsin. (Appleton

The greatest visionaries do not consider the limits of their assets, but they rather grow despite those limitations.

My everyday Appleton life, my phones calls to my father, my occasional beers with friends, my Saturday-morning jobs around the reservoir - what was all that, but the opiated husk of a life, the treadmill of the ordinary, a cage built of convention and consumerism and obligation and fear, in which I'd lolled for decades, oblivious, like a lotus eater, as my body aged and time advanced?

Cyrus’s father looked at his son. “Is that true?” Cyrus wouldn’t look at his dad, or anyone else. It was hard to look tough when you’re being held in someone’s arms, but he did his best to pull it off, even crossing beefy arms across his chest. “Cyrus, I asked you a question, don’t make me ask twice.” “Yes,” he finally said, very sullen. “I don’t know what got into him, but I’m sorry.” Kevin Appleton said, “When Becky does something wrong she does her own apologizing.” Cyrus’s father glared at Appleton, but he said, “Apologize to the little girl, Cyrus.” “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I wanted to hurt him!” He pointed his own dramatic finger at Matthew. “Matthew didn’t start the fight, Cyrus, you did. Apologize to both of them, now.” He turned a pouting face to Becky. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to.” “I don’t accept!” Becky said. Her eyes were dark and furious. I liked her.

When I see your scars, do I want to erase them? Absolutely. But not your physical scars. The real ones, beneath the surface. The ones that compel you to stay silent or force you to cringe. Those are the scars I want to obliterate.” His finger circles the dip of a burn mark on her forearm. “This is a battle trophy and nothing to be ashamed of. Every one of your scars makes you more beautiful to me.

Things have to change, Charlie. You can either fight the change and lose, or make the change your own.

Average sugar consumption rose to 18 pounds per year in 1800 and to 90 pounds per year in 1900. In 2009 more than half of Americans consumed a whopping 180 pounds of sugar in a year!(9) And we wonder why we are sick. Sugar researcher, Nancy Appleton, in her book, Suicide by Sugar, lists 140 ways sugar can wreck your health.(10)

Mary's blushes were deeper, but the kindly night hid them.

Well, there’s no special hurry, is there?” asked Mr. Swift. “The elephants in Africa are likely to stay there for some time. If you want to go, why don’t you get right to work on the Black Hawk and make the trip? I’d like to go myself.” “I wish you would, Dad,” exclaimed Tom eagerly. “No, son, I couldn’t think of it. I want to stay here and get well. Then I am going to resume work on my wireless motor. Perhaps I’ll have it finished when you come back from Africa with an airship load of elephants’ tusks.

The sooner we get enough ivory the quicker we can go to the rescue of the missionaries,” said Mr. Anderson.

The propellers of Damon's Whizzer will be of the pusher type, and will revolve in dense, compressed air, almost like water, and that will do away with high speed motors, with all their complications, and make traveling in the clouds as simple as taking out a little one-cylinder motor boat. How's that, Tom Swift? How's that for an idea?

But I might add that it is neither France, England, nor Russia that we must fear. It is a certain other great nation, which at present I will not name.

For a few moments after their first ejaculations neither Tom nor Ned knew what to do.

We are within five hundred miles of the intersection of the forty-fifth parallel and the twenty-seventh meridian, east from Washington," said the captain. "That's as near as I could locate the wreck.

off the coast of Uruguay,

No, Massa Tom, it ain't him. I knows dat blessin' man good an' proper. I jest wish he'd bless mah mule Boomerang some day, an' take some oh de temper out ob him. No, sah, it ain't Massa Damon. De gen'man's in de airship shed waitin' fo' you.

Tom can fire at their TOES and put them out of business,” declared Ned, who was eagerly advancing. “How about it, Tom?” “Well, I guess the electric rifle will come up to expectations. Say, Mr. Durban, they seem to be heading this way!” excitedly cried Tom, as the herd of big beasts suddenly turned and changed their course. “Yes, they are,” admitted the old elephant hunter calmly. “But that won’t matter. Take it easy. Kill all you can.” “But we don’t want to put too many out of business,” said Tom, who was not needlessly cruel, even in hunting. “I know that,” answered Mr. Durban. “But this is a case of necessity. I’ve got to get ivory, and we have to kill quite a few elephants to accomplish this. Besides the brutes will head for the village and the natives’ grain fields, and trample them down, if they’re not headed back. So all together now, we’ll give them a volley. This is a good place! There they are. All line up now. Get ready!

I’ve got an order for a pair of big elephant tusks—the largest I can get for a wealthy New York man,— and I’m anxious to fulfil the contract. The game isn’t what it once was. There’s more competition and the elephants are scarcer. So I’ve got to hustle.

Yes, I didn't plan to be gone so long," apologized Tom. "But I thought while I was there I might as well go all the way with her." "And did you?" "Yes. In the electric runabout. I wanted to come back and get the airship, but she said she wanted to look nice when she met her relatives, and as yet airship travel is a bit mussy. Though when I get my cabined cruiser of the clouds I'll guarantee not to ruffle a curl of the daintiest girl!

There isn't a life net made,

RALPH OF THE ROUND HOUSE; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man. RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER; Or, Clearing the Track. RALPH ON THE ENGINE; Or, The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail.

Give them some more! This is some of the best ivory I’ve seen yet!

he turned and fired his two revolvers as fast as he could pull the triggers, into the very faces of the red imps who were seeking to drag him down. Again and again he fired, until he had emptied both cylinders of his weapons. He felt the grasps of the fiendish little men relax one by one.

What would you say if I told you that man was Blakeson, of Blakeson and Grinder, the rival tunnel contractors who made such trouble for us?" "You mean down in Peru, Tom?" "Yes." Mr. Damon started in surprise, and then exclaimed: "Bless my ear mufflers, Tom, but you're right! That was Blakeson! I didn't know him with his beard, but that was Blakeson, all right! Bless my foot-warmer! What do you suppose he is doing around here?" "I don't know, Mr. Damon, but I'd give a good deal to know. It isn't any good, I'll wager on that. He didn't seem to know me or you, either—unless he did and didn't let on. I suppose it was because of my goggles—and you were gazing up in the air most of the time. I don't think he knew either of us." "It didn't seem so, Tom. But what is he doing here? Do you think he is working at the army camp, or helping make Liberty Motors for the aircraft that are going to beat the Germans?" "Hardly. He didn't seem to be connected with the camp. He wanted a mechanic, and hinted that I might do. Jove! if he really didn't know who I was, and finds out, say! won't he be surprised?" "Rather," agreed Mr Damon. "Well, Tom, I had a nice little ride. And now I must be getting back. But if you contemplate a trip anywhere, don't forget to let me know." "I don't count on going anywhere soon," Tom answered. "I have something on hand that will occupy all my time, though I don't just like it. However, I'm going to do my best," and he waved good-bye to Mr. Damon, who went off blessing

That’s just what I want. Elephant shooting in Africa! My! With my new electric rifle, and an airship, what couldn’t a fellow do over in the dark continent! I’ve a good notion to go there! I wonder if Ned would go with me? Mr. Damon certainly would. Elephant shooting in Africa! In an airship! I could finish my new sky craft in short order if I wanted to. I’ve a good notion to do it!

Tom. I just wanted to tell you that I think I've gotten over that difficulty you found with the big carburetor you were working on. You didn't say what you wanted it for, except that it was for a heavy duty gasolene engine, and you couldn't get the needle valve to work as you'd like. I

The buildings had grown up around the old Swift homestead, which, now that so much industry surrounded it, was not the most pleasant place to live in. Tom and his father only made this their stopping place in winter. In the summer they dwelt in a quiet cottage far removed from the scenes of their industry.

In fact you can fire through a house, and kill something on the other side.” “I

the power it has to shoot out luminous bars of light.

But go ahead. You interest me strangely.” “I don’t mean exactly that I

the Touring Club, offering a prize for the best electric car, it occurred to me that I might put my battery into an auto, and win.” “Hum,” remarked Mr. Swift musingly. “I don’t take much stock in electric autos, Tom. Gasolene seems to be the best, or perhaps steam, generated by gasolene. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. All the electric runabouts I ever saw, while they were very nice cars, didn’t seem able to go so very fast, or very far.” “That’s true, but it’s because they didn’t have the right kind of a battery. You know an electric locomotive can make pretty good speed, Dad. Over a hundred miles an hour in tests.” “Yes, but they don’t run by storage batteries. They have a third rail, and powerful motors,” and Mr. Swift looked quizzically at his son. He loved to argue with him, for he said it made Tom think, and often the two would thus thresh out some knotty point of an invention, to the interests of both. “Of course, Dad, there is a good deal of theory in what I’m thinking of,” the lad admitted. “But it does seem to me that if you put the right kind of a battery into an automobile, it could scoot along pretty lively. Look what speed a trolley car can make.” “Yes, Tom, but there again they get their power from an overhead wire.” “Some of them don’t. There’s a new storage battery been invented by a New Jersey man, which does as well as the third rail or the overhead wire. It was after reading about his battery that I thought of a plan for mine. It isn’t anything like his; perhaps not as good in some ways, but, for what I want, it is better in some respects, I think. For one thing it can be recharged very quickly.” “Now Tom, look here,” said Mr. Swift earnestly, laying aside his papers, and coming over to where his son sat. “You know I never interfere with your inventions. In fact, the more you think of the better I like it.

About how far do you expect your car will go with one charging of the battery?” “Well, if I can make it do three hundred miles I’ll be satisfied, but I’m going to try for four hundred.” “What will you do when your battery runs out?” “Recharge it.” “Suppose you’re not near a charging station?” “Well, Dad, of course those are some of the details I’ve got to work out. I’m planning a register gauge now, that will give warning about fifty miles before the battery is run down. That will leave me a margin to work on. And I’m going to have it fixed so I can take current from any trolley line, as well as from a regular charging station. My battery will be capable of being recharged very quickly, or, in case of need, I can take out the old cells and put in new ones.

Why this motor has run an equivalent of two hundred miles on one charging of the battery! That’s much better than I expected. I thought if I got a hundred out of it I’d be doing well. Dad, I believe, after I improve my battery a bit, that I’ll have the very thing I want! I’ll install a set of them in a car, and it will go like the wind.

Seems to have gone up almost over night, like Jonah’s gourd.

airship smash,” replied the lad, somewhat proudly. “It’s an oxide of nickel battery, with steel and oxide of iron negative electrodes.” “What solution do you use, Tom?” asked Mr. Swift. “I didn’t get that far in questioning you before the crash came,” he added. “Well I have, in the experimental battery, a solution of potassium hydrate,” replied the lad, “but I think I’m going to change it, and add some lithium hydrate to it. I think that will make it stronger.” “Bless my watch chain!” exclaimed Mr. Damon.

fool niggah down at de depot tole me it made a noise dat a feller could heah fo’ miles and miles, but Ah doan heah even a whispah fum it. Reckon dat man mus’ have been jest a plain, ornary prevasticator.

There was a momentary scream of terror from the girl, and then, as she looked at Tom, she exclaimed: "Why, Tom Swift! What are you trying to do? Run me down?" "Mary--Miss Nestor!" ejaculated our hero, in some confusion.

just as lief would go scootin

going.

Well," remarked Mr. Sharp, when Tom and Mr. Damon had called on him, to state that Andy Foger's machine was now on the grounds, and demanding to be allowed to view it, to see if it was an infringement on the one entered by the young inventor, "I'll do the best I can for you. I'll lay the case before the committee. It will meet at once, and I'll let you know what they say.

Next he shut it off completely, and prepared to volplane back to earth.

Have you anything special to do this morning?" he went on to Tom. "Well, I can always find something to keep me busy," replied the lad, "but as for anything special—" "I thought perhaps you'd like to go for a trip in my auto," interrupted Mr. Berg. "I had asked a young man who is stopping at the same hotel where I am to accompany me, but he has unexpectedly left, and I don't like to go alone. His name was—let me see. I have a wretched memory for names, but it was something like Roger or Moger." "Foger!" cried Tom. "Was it Andy Foger?" "Yes, that was it. Why, do you know him?" asked Mr. Berg in some surprise. "I should say so," replied Tom. "He was the cause of what might have resulted in something serious for me," and the lad explained about being imprisoned in the tank. "You don't tell me!" cried Mr. Berg. "I had no idea he was that kind of a lad. You see, his father is one of the directors of the firm by whom I am employed. Andy came from home to spend a few weeks at the seaside, and stopped at the same hotel that I did. He went off yesterday afternoon, and I haven't seen him since, though he promised to go for a ride with me. He must have come over here and entered your shop unobserved. I remember now he asked me where the submarine was being built that was going to compete with our firm's, and I told him. I didn't think he was that kind of a lad. Well, since he's probably gone back home, perhaps you will come for a ride with me, Tom." "I'm afraid I can't go, thank you," answered the lad. "We are very busy getting our submarine in shape for a trial.

He hastened out to his auto, while Tom and his father watched the agent. "Tom, never trust that man," advised the aged inventor solemnly. "Just what I was about to remark," said his son. "Well, let's get back to work. Queer that he should come here again, and it's queer about Andy Foger." Father and son returned to the machine shop, while Mr. Berg puffed away in his auto.

the treasure ship went to the bottom in latitude forty-five degrees south, and longitude twenty-seven east from Washington.

Judge Appleton White criticized the New England elite for not helping these new immigrants. He thought we should be educating them. These immigrants, like any new wave of immigrants, I believe, represent the values of hard work and self-reliance that founded this country. From White’s memoir, I made the connection in my lecture to the scapegoating that Latin American immigrants face today. This is an old, cyclical story in which people make it here and then they decide to close the doors behind them. The story is repeated whether you’re English, Irish, Jewish, or Latin American immigrants. But these new immigrants, whoever they are, should remind those already here, what it took to make it in America, what desire burned in these immigrants to never give up, and what kind of hope these newcomers had, despite the dangers. These are the best American values. I wanted to write about the new pilgrims of this country — nobody’s children. These people—like Turi, Molly, and Arnulfo—who represent the best values of this country. The values of trying to make it on your own. The values of fighting for your place. The values of helping each other. These are the basic values that started this country and served as its foundation. But too often we have forgotten them, and where these values came from. And this working to become American, to find your place, instead of assuming your privileged place, this is Aristotle through and through. For Aristotle, you need to work and to act to find meaning in the idea of the good. An American who is growing fat and happy in Dallas, or anywhere else, will not have that practical, in-the-trenches Aristotelian understanding of what it takes to belong after a long struggle, like a new immigrant.

No, to survive here you had to belong to something bigger than yourself, and when a serious threat arose you had to be able to rely on that something or that someone to stand with you against all odds. It could be one of your own kind, it could be a group of creatures you’d never personally had contact with before, living in the same ecosystem; it didn’t matter, so long as you were both attuned to the peculiar subtleties transferred down through the genes of your forbears, those hidden patterns and signals learned and reinforced by the toll of a billion deaths, that, when triggered, combined to command your obedience for the sake of

A lot of times I’d step out of my own zone as Scotty Appleton and tell Wesley or Chris or Judd how shit really would get said in the game. Subtle little things like gestures and looks. Things I lived firsthand, things I witnessed, I was able to add that into the performances.