Lynn Williams Quotes

You don't notice the dead leaving when they really choose to leave you. You're not meant to. At most you feel them as a whisper or the wave of a whisper undulating down. I would compare it to a woman in the back of a lecture hall or theater whom no one notices until she slips out.Then only those near the door themselves, like Grandma Lynn, notice; to the rest it is like an unexplained breeze in a closed room. Grandma Lynn died several years later, but I have yet to see her here. I imagine her tying it on in her heaven, drinking mint juleps with Tennessee Williams and Dean Martin. She'll be here in her own sweet time, I'm sure. If I'm to be honest with you, I still sneak away to watch my family sometimes. I can't help it, and sometimes they still think of me. They can't help it.... It was a suprise to everyone when Lindsey found out she was pregnant...My father dreamed that one day he might teach another child to love ships in bottles. He knew there would be both sadness and joy in it; that it would always hold an echo of me. I would like to tell you that it is beautiful here, that I am, and you will one day be, forever safe. But this heaven is not about safety just as, in its graciousness, it isn't about gritty reality. We have fun. We do things that leave humans stumped and grateful, like Buckley's garden coming up one year, all of its crazy jumble of plants blooming all at once. I did that for my mother who, having stayed, found herself facing the yard again. Marvel was what she did at all the flowers and herbs and budding weeds. Marveling was what she mostly did after she came back- at the twists life took. And my parents gave my leftover possessions to the Goodwill, along with Grandma Lynn's things. They kept sharing when they felt me. Being together, thinking and talking about the dead, became a perfectly normal part of their life. And I listened to my brother, Buckley, as he beat the drums. Ray became Dr. Singh... And he had more and more moments that he chose not to disbelieve. Even if surrounding him were the serious surgeons and scientists who ruled over a world of black and white, he maintained this possibility: that the ushering strangers that sometimes appeared to the dying were not the results of strokes, that he had called Ruth by my name, and that he had, indeed, made love to me. If he ever doubted, he called Ruth. Ruth, who graduated from a closet to a closet-sized studio on the Lower East Side. Ruth, who was still trying to find a way to write down whom she saw and what she had experienced. Ruth, who wanted everyone to believe what she knew: that the dead truly talk to us, that in the air between the living, spirits bob and weave and laugh with us. They are the oxygen we breathe. Now I am in the place I call this wide wide Heaven because it includes all my simplest desires but also the most humble and grand. The word my grandfather uses is comfort. So there are cakes and pillows and colors galore, but underneath this more obvious patchwork quilt are places like a quiet room where you can go and hold someone's hand and not have to say anything. Give no story. Make no claim. Where you can live at the edge of your skin for as long as you wish. This wide wide Heaven is about flathead nails and the soft down of new leaves, wide roller coaster rides and escaped marbles that fall then hang then take you somewhere you could never have imagined in your small-heaven dreams.

What’s More Important: Your Ego or Hearing Your Child?

Give me ambiguity or something else.

Just let me think for a minute.… Will.” Isaiah snapped his fingers. “The son’s name was Will Blake.” Will Blake. For a split second, I wasn’t standing there in Isaiah’s shop. I was in Toby’s wing of Hawthorne House, reading a poem inscribed on metal. William Blake. “A Poison Tree.

Sometimes I picture all your fingers. Sometimes they're crawling down my spine. Sometimes they're buttoning your jacket. Sometimes you're far but your still mine.

medieval English literature reached its height after the plague in the writings of William Langland and Geoffrey Chaucer

The best preparation I’ve come across is an open mind from a deep desire to live fully, an innate trust in ourselves or god or the universe to see the commonly unseen, to hear the commonly unheard and know the commonly unknown that we may take action. This preparation blossoms with the camaraderie of like-minded individuals who share their best, knowing our paths are individual. —Sharon Williams Prahl

I love Fourth of July. It's my favorite, isn't it, Mim? This was going to be the year I won the golf cart parade and the pie-eating contest up at the lake. William Faulkner, too" "William Faulkner was going to win a pie-eating contest?" I asked. Still channeling Lillian, John David gave me a look. "Don't be ridiculous, Sawyer. There is no canine pie-eating contest. William Faulkner is going to win the costume contest, which is part of the parade." "I mean, sure," I said, nodding. "Who doesn't celebrate American independence with some kind of dog costume contest?" "And parade." John David could not have emphasized those words more.

Read. You should read Bukowski and Ferlinghetti, read Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, and listen to Coltrane, Nina Simone, Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, Son House, Robert Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Miles Davis, Lou Reed, Nick Drake, Bobbie Gentry, George Jones, Jimmy Reed, Odetta, Funkadelic, and Woody Guthrie. Drive across America. Ride trains. Fly to countries beyond your comfort zone. Try different things. Join hands across the water. Different foods. New tasks. Different menus and tastes. Talk with the guy who’s working in construction on your block, who’s working on the highway you’re traveling on. Speak with your neighbors. Get to know them. Practice civil disobedience. Try new resistance. Be part of the solution, not the problem. Don’t litter the earth, it’s the only one you have, learn to love her. Care for her. Learn another language. Trust your friends with kindness. You will need them one day. You will need earth one day. Do not fear death. There are worse things than death. Do not fear the reaper. Lie in the sunshine but from time to time let the neon light your way. ZZ Top, Jefferson Airplane, Spirit. Get a haircut. Dye your hair pink or blue. Do it for you. Wear eyeliner. Your eyes are the windows to your soul. Show them off. Wear a feather in your cap. Run around like the Mad Hatter. Perhaps he had the answer. Visit the desert. Go to the zoo. Go to a county fair. Ride the Ferris wheel. Ride a horse. Pet a pig. Ride a donkey. Protest against war. Put a peace symbol on your automobile. Drive a Volkswagen. Slow down for skateboarders. They might have the answers. Eat gingerbread men. Pray to the moon and the stars. God is out there somewhere. Don’t worry. You’ll find out where soon enough. Dance. Even if you don’t know how to dance. Read The Four Agreements. Read the Bible. Read the Bhagavad Gita. Join nothing. It won’t help. No games, no church, no religion, no yellow-brick road, no way to Oz. Wear beads. Watch a caterpillar in the sun.

On Writing Well, by William Zinsser The Elements of Style, by William Strunk Jr. and E. B. White Eats, Shoots & Leaves, by Lynne Truss This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage, by Ann Patchett There are also several podcasts on writing that I like, including these: Grammar Girl Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing Write about Now, with Jonathan Small A Way with Words, with Martha Barnette and Grant Barrett Mad Dogs & Englishmen, with Kevin Williamson and Charles C. W. Cooke (this isn’t a podcast about language, but their command of English is incredible)

Then I read Greg Rucka’s run on Detective Comics – when Batwoman had the lead role – and discovered the art of J.H. Williams III.

Most of the other early rockers were Welsh, too: Jerry Lee Lewis from Ferriday, Louisiana; Carl Perkins and the Everly Brothers from Tennessee; Conway Twitty (born Harold Jenkins) from Arkansas. Same with Ronnie Hawkins and Levon Helm. Even Johnny Cash and a lot of the country and western stars: Loretta Lynn. Buck Owens. Kitty Wells. Hank Williams.

William pondered over his argument with Annie. How did a simple statement turn into a full-scale fight? He didn't understand why it was wrong of him to assume Annie would run a simple errand for him. Sara had done all of it without complaint. All he'd asked Annie to do was pick up a suit from the dry cleaners.

Joan Joyce is the real deal, a fierce competitor and one of the greatest athletes and coaches in sports history. Tony Renzoni’s moving tribute to Joan shows us why she is a champion in sports and in life. —Billie Jean King, sports icon and equality pioneer The story is all true. Joan Joyce was a tremendous pitcher, as talented as anyone who ever played. [responding to a newspaper account of his early 1960s match-ups against Joan Joyce] —Ted Williams, Hall of Famer and Boston Red Sox great, December 30, 1999 Joan Joyce is truly the greatest female athlete in sports history. And a great coach as well. Tony Renzoni’s well-researched book is a touching tribute to this phenomenal athlete. I highly recommend this book! —Bobby Valentine, former MLB player and manager Quotes for Historic Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to the Shaboo: I would like to thank Tony Renzoni for giving me the opportunity to write the foreword to his wonderful book. I highly recommend Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to Shaboo to music lovers everywhere! —Felix Cavaliere, Legendary Hall of Famer (Young Rascals/Rascals, Solo) As the promoter of the concerts in many of the music venues in this book, I hope you enjoy living the special memories this book will give you. —Jim Koplik, Live Nation president, Connecticut and Upstate New York Tony Renzoni has captured the soul and spirit of decades of the Connecticut live music scene, from the wild and wooly perspective of the music venues that housed it. A great read! —Christine Ohlman, the “Beehive Queen,” recording artist/songwriter Tony Renzoni has written a very thoughtful and well-researched tribute to the artists of Connecticut, and we are proud to have Gene included among them. —Lynne Pitney, wife of Gene Pitney Our Alice Cooper band recorded the Billion Dollars Babies album in a mansion in Greenwich. Over the years, there have been many great musicians from Connecticut, and the local scene is rich with good music. Tony Renzoni’s book captures all of that and more. Sit back and enjoy the ride. —Dennis Dunaway, hall of famer and co-founder of the Alice Cooper band. Rock ’n’ Roll music fans from coast to coast will connect to events in this book. Strongly recommended! —Judith Fisher Freed, estate of Alan Freed

But Florence Nightingale was not born into such a family. She was, instead, born to a wealthy English couple who could afford a honeymoon that took several years and spanned the European continent. The honeymoon of William Edward and Frances Nightingale went on for so long that their two daughters were both born before the couple returned to their home in England. Florence was named after the Italian city where she was born. Her sister, Frances Parthenope,was similarly named in honor of her parents’ travels: Parthenopolis is an ancient Greek settlement in Naples.

Meanwhile, angered by white violence in the South and inspired by the gigantic June 23 march in Detroit, grassroots people on the streets all over the country had begun talking about marching on Washington. “It scared the white power structure in Washington, D.C. to death,” as Malcolm put it in his “Message to the Grassroots” and in his Autobiography.6 So the White House called in the Big Six national Negro leaders and arranged for them to be given the money to control the march. The result was what Malcolm called the “Farce on Washington” on August 28, 1963. John Lewis, then chairman of SNCC and fresh from the battlefields of Georgia, Mississippi, and Alabama where hundreds of blacks and their white student allies were being beaten and murdered simply for trying to register blacks to vote, was forced to delete references to the revolution and power from his speech and, specifically, to take out the sentence, “We will not wait for the President, the Justice Department nor Congress, but we will take matters into our own hands and create a source of power, outside of any national structure, that could and would assure us a victory.” Marchers were instructed to carry only official signs and to sing only one song, “We Shall Overcome.” As a result, many rank-and-file SNCC militants refused to participate.7 Meanwhile, conscious of the tensions that were developing around preparations for the march on Washington and in order to provide a national rallying point for the independent black movement, Conrad Lynn and William Worthy, veterans in the struggle and old friends of ours, issued a call on the day of the march for an all-black Freedom Now Party. Lynn, a militant civil rights and civil liberties lawyer, had participated in the first Freedom Ride from Richmond, Virginia, to Memphis, Tennessee, in 1947 and was one of Robert Williams’s attorneys.8 Worthy, a Baltimore Afro-American reporter and a 1936–37 Nieman Fellow, had distinguished himself by his courageous actions in defense of freedom of the press, including spending forty-one days in the Peoples Republic of China in 1957 in defiance of the U.S. travel ban (for which his passport was lifted) and traveling to Cuba without a passport following the Bay of Pigs invasion in order to help produce a documentary. The prospect of a black independent party terrified the Democratic Party. Following the call for the Freedom Now Party, Kennedy twice told the press that a political division between whites and blacks would be “fatal.

I say, William, have you a word that rhymes with jewel?” Hamlet asked with the hoarsened voice of one who had bellowed one too many battle cries. And William, who never had any words to utter that weren’t variations on some curse or another, said helpfully, “Ah,” then promptly fell silent. “Try fool,” Richard muttered. “And be certain to apply it to me.

We have much to learn from women like Ruby McKnight Williams, who studied the California color line and devised ways to resist it, only to see it materialize somewhere else in another form.

In the center of the photos were words in stark white: RELENTLESS STORMS. FIRES. INCURABLE DISEASES. BLOODSHED. HOW THE NATION IS FALLING APART.

You said you and William became 'officially involved' on December twenty-fourth?" "Yes." "That night, did you and William ever discuss a recent windfall of fifty thousand dollars?" "No." "Did you and William discuss your plans to move in together?" "I said, no." "Did you agree to become officially involved with William even though you both knew another woman still considered herself his fiancée?" "Yes." "Did you decide to do this because William's financial prospects had suddenly improved by fifty thousand dollars? Enough to live together in the Lakeside Apartments, after his father was dead?" Brenda flinches. Jerry calls out, "Objection! Speculation! Foundation! Assumes facts not in evidence!" The objection is sustained. Udweala rephrases the question. "You said you had financial reasons not to be 'officially involved' with William Chao. Did you become 'officially involved' on the evening of December twenty-fourth, despite the fact that he had not broken off his engagement with his girlfriend, because William now had fifty thousand dollars?" "For God's sake, no." Brenda's voice is sharp. "I told you, he never told me about any fifty thousand. What are you implying here? You want to make me out as some kind of slut? A whore? You want the jury to think that Dagou tried to pay me to move in with him?" Again, James glances at Lynn's juror. Her lips are set, her eyes bright, and James understands that with these blurted questions, Brenda has said exactly what the persecution wanted.

Will is one nickname for William,” Rebecca said, sucking every last molecule of oxygen out of the car. “But another one is Liam.

One time, at the final hockey game of his senior year, against rival Beverly at the hockey rink in Lynn, the score was tied at two after regulation. Jack had scored both goals for Salem. The game went into overtime, but shortly thereafter, Jack’s team lost. It was the team’s seventh loss in a row. Jack was pissed. He threw his hockey stick in anger, then skated to get the stick and marched off to the locker room. Next thing he knew, his mother was in the locker room, too. She bounded right up to him, oblivious to the fact that the guys around her were in various states of undress. She grabbed him by the jersey in front of everyone. “You punk,” she yelled at him. “If you don’t know how to lose, you’ll never know how to win. If you don’t know this, you don’t belong anywhere.” He paused for a moment, recalling the memory. “She was a powerhouse,” he said. “I loved her beyond comprehension.

The U.S. government offered no apologies. For the British to receive any aid at all, Roosevelt and his men believed, the American people must be persuaded that their own country was getting the better of the deal. "We seek to avoid all risks, all danger, but we make certain to get the profit," said the isolationist senator William Borah.

Guilhem or William IX, Duke of Aquitaine (1086-1127), was the first known troubadour

Feudalism existed in its most highly developed form in the north and east of what is now France, where by the fourteenth century it had come to be the rule that there was no land without its lord, where the feudal aristocracy was most sharply marked off from the rest of society, and where most of the peasants remained serfs into the thirteenth century. In some parts of Europe feudalism prevailed less universally and society was not divided so sharply into the two extremes of serfs at the bottom and feudal nobles at the top. In southern France, for instance, many landholders recognized no feudal lord and would not admit that their estates were fiefs. In Brittany serfdom had always been exceptional; in Normandy it early disappeared, and in both these provinces the word “fief” was applied to the free holdings of peasants as well as to the estates of nobles. In Germany powerful lords sometimes granted fiefs to their servile personal attendants, called ministeriales, and thus made knights out of serfs or slaves. Many features of feudalism were found in England before the Norman conquest, but William the Conqueror introduced it in a more developed state from the Continent.

They sent me three songs written by a Texas songwriter they represented named Jerry Lynn Williams—“Forever Man,” “Something’s Happening,” and “See What Love Can Do”—and they were good. I loved the way he sang, and I sent back a message to say I would do it, on the condition that they produced the songs and provided the musicians. I think it was, professionally, the first time I’d ever had to back down.