Marley And Me Quotes

You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love wind, but when it comes you close your windows. So that's why I'm scared when you say you love me.

Though the road's been rocky it sure feels good to me.

Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us, and they spend most of it waiting for us to come home each day. It is amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.

My music will go on forever. Maybe it's a fool say that, but when me know facts me can say facts. My music will go on forever.

Me only have one ambition, y'know. I only have one thing I really like to see happen. I like to see mankind live together - black, white, Chinese, everyone - that's all.

Animal lovers are a special breed of humans, generous of spirit, full of empathy, perhaps a little prone to sentimentality, and with hearts as big as a cloudless sky

It's just the most amazing thing to love a dog, isn't it? It makes our relationships with people seem as boring as a bowl of oatmeal.

. . . owning a dog always ended with this sadness because dogs just don't live as long as people do.

A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours. Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things-a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.

A dog doesn't care if you're rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.

Dogs are great. Bad dogs, if you can really call them that, are perhaps the greatest of them all.

Ziggy, when you go up bring me up and when you go down don't let me down. Stephen, Money can't buy you life.

tell me what you think it means.

There's no such thing as a bad dog, just a bad owner.

A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water logged stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you're rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?

He taught us the art of unqualified love. How to give it, how to accept it. Where there is that, most other pieces fall into place.

Old Marley was as dead as a doornail. Mind! I don't mean to say that, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail.

In a dog's life, some plaster would fall, some cushions would open, some rugs would shred. Like any relationship, this one had its costs. They were costs we came to accept and balance against the joy and amusement and protection and companionship he gave us.

Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us, and they spend most of it waiting for us to come home each day.

If you still think you're a young pup then you are, no matter what the calendar says

yeah me see myself as a revolutionary, would wouldn't want no help and imma take no bribe from no one and fight it single handed with music

I'n'I nah come to fight flesh and blood, But spiritual wickedness in 'igh and low places. So while they fight you down, Stand firm and give Jah thanks and praises. 'Cos I'n'I no expect to be justified by the laws of men - by the laws of men. Oh, true they have found me guilty, But through - through Jah proved my innocency.

I had never thought of Marley as any kind of model, but sitting there sipping my beer, I was aware that maybe he held the secret for a good life. Never slow down, never look back, live each day w/ adolescent verve and spunk and curiosity and playfulness.

Then I dropped my forehead against his and sat there for a long time, as if I could telegraph a message through our two skulls, from my brain to his. I wanted to make him understand some things. You know all that stuff we’ve always said about you?” I whispered. “What a total pain you are? Don’t believe it. Don’t believe it for a minute, Marley.” He needed to know that, and something more, too. There was something I had never told him, that no one ever had. I wanted him to hear it before he went. Marley,” I said. “You are a great dog.

In a world of bosses, you are your own master

Marley!!!

Our opportunities to give of ourselves are indeed limitless, but they are also perishable. There are hearts to gladden. There are kind words to say. There are gifts to be given. There are deeds to be done. There are souls to be saved. As we remember that “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God,” (Mosiah 2:17) we will not find ourselves in the unenviable position of Jacob Marley’s ghost, who spoke to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’s immortal "Christmas Carol." Marley spoke sadly of opportunities lost. Said he: 'Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunity misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!' Marley added: 'Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!' Fortunately, as we know, Ebenezer Scrooge changed his life for the better. I love his line, 'I am not the man I was.' Why is Dickens’ "Christmas Carol" so popular? Why is it ever new? I personally feel it is inspired of God. It brings out the best within human nature. It gives hope. It motivates change. We can turn from the paths which would lead us down and, with a song in our hearts, follow a star and walk toward the light. We can quicken our step, bolster our courage, and bask in the sunlight of truth. We can hear more clearly the laughter of little children. We can dry the tear of the weeping. We can comfort the dying by sharing the promise of eternal life. If we lift one weary hand which hangs down, if we bring peace to one struggling soul, if we give as did the Master, we can—by showing the way—become a guiding star for some lost mariner.

They told me that to make her fall in love I had to make her laugh. But everytime she laughs I'm the one who falls in love

Never slow down, never look back, live each day with adolescent verve and spunk and curiosity and playfulness. If you think you’re still a young pup, then maybe you are, no matter what the calendar says.

Mostly, though, I tell him about a girl in that yellow pull over. The girl who saved me. The girl I fell in love with. I tell him about Marley.

A dog judges others not by their color or creed or class but by who they are inside. A dog doesn't care if you are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.

It’s just the most amazing thing to love a dog, isn’t it? It makes our relationships with people seem as boring as a bowl of oatmeal.

She kissed back, once again content to let me take her for a ride wherever I was going. "What a beautiful mess we're in," I murmured.

A dog doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his. -Marley and Me

A dog doesn't care if you are rich or poor, educated of illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his. It was really quite simple, and yet we humans, so much wiser and more sophisticated, have always had trouble figuring out what really counts and what does not.

I understand we all have our differences. But while learning about history I've read about white people coming together, Jews coming together, Spanish coming together, different cultures and religions understanding and coming together despite their differences. Slavery was never something that shocked me. What shocks me is how black people have not yet overcome the odds and we're such strong smart people. Why we can't just stand together?

I don't care if it hurts, I'm tired of lies and all these games, I've reached a point in life, and no longer can I be this way, don't come crying to me, I too have shed my share of tears. I'm moving on, yes I'm grooving on.

I nostri animali hanno vite molto brevi da trascorrere con noi, e ne trascorrono la maggior parte ad aspettare che torniamo a casa ogni giorno.

Marley fez-me pensar no carácter efémero da vida, nas suas alegrias passageiras e oportunidades perdidas. Fez-me lembrar que só temos uma chance de chegar ao ouro, sem repetições.

Scat Man Doo and his trusty Shit Stick had gone where no man had ever gone before. And none should ever go again.

We now had three girls and one testosterone-pumped guy bird that spent every walking minute doing of of three things: pursuing sex, having sex or crowing boastfully about the sex he had just scored. Jenny observed that roosters are what men would be if left to their own devices, with no social conventions to rein in their baser instincts, and I couldn't disagree. I had to admit, I kind of admired the lucky bastard.

Children serve as impossible-to-ignore, in-your-face timepieces, marking the relentless march of one’s life through what otherwise might seem an infinite sea of minutes, hours, days, and years.

Only then did I see. Something was amiss with Patrick's snap-on one piece, or "onesie" as we manly dads like to call it. His chubby thighs, I now realized, were squeezed into the armholes, which were so tight they must have been cutting off his circulation. The collared neck hung between his legs like an udder. Up top, Patrick's head stuck out through the unsnapped crotch, and his arms were lost somewhere in the billowing pant legs. It was quite a look.

Yet by some stroke of almost providential good fortune, he became wanted.

he was immune to pain, an unstoppable machine of muscle and sinew.

Whatever false sense of security the contraption had once offered us was gone. Each time we left, even for a half hour, we wondered whether this would be the time that our manic inmate would bust out and go on another couch-shredding, wall-gouging, door-eating rampage. So much for peace of mind.

Na solidão da noite, quase conseguia sentir a finitude da vida e como ela era preciosa. Nós damo-la como garantida, mas ela é frágil, precária, incerta, susceptível de acabar a qualquer momento sem aviso. Lembrei-me daquilo que devia ser evidência mas nem sempre é: que vale a pena saborear cada dia, cada hora e cada minuto das nossas vidas.

Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us, and they spend most of it waiting for us to come home each day. It is amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.

I’m not interested in Bob Marley telling me to ‘lively up’ myself. The only music that satisfies me is Nine Inch Nails and Trent Reznor’s voice crying through industrial rhytms. In the August evenings, I lie on my bed with earphones, letting his laments roll through me like unrepentant thunderstorms. I envy the courage that carries his voice into the world. He doesn’t berate himself for pain and anger; he howls. And this delights me, even though I feel ashamed when my own rage comes to the surface. My anger doesn’t signify courage; it’s just more confirmation that I’m bad.

Cuando creía que se le acababa la cuerda, él se recuperaba. Le cogí la cara entre mis manos y lo obligue a mirarme a los ojos «Me harás saber cuando llegue tu hora, ¿no?», dije, más a modo de declaración que de pregunta. No quería tomar la decisión por mí mismo. «Me lo harás saber, ¿no es cierto?»

You’re the beat of my heart, the blood in my veins, the strength in my bones. None of me works without you. And if you need me to tell you every fucking day for the rest of our lives, then I will, because you are more than enough. You’re everything.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' Yeah, well, whoever wrote that was a friggin' idiot.

We both rolled our eyes when my old-school mother clucked at us, "Enjoy them while you can because they'll be grown up before you know it." Now, even just a few years into it, we were realising she was right. Hers was a well-worn cliché but one we could already see was steeped in truth. The boys were growing up fast, and each week ended another little chapter that could never again be revisited.

could almost taste the finiteness of life and thus its preciousness. We take it for granted, but it is fragile, precarious, uncertain, able to cease at any instant without notice. I was reminded of what should be obvious but too often is not, that each day, each hour and minute, is worth cherishing.

That’s when it happened. So fast, in fact, that we didn’t even realize it had happened. All we knew was that one instant we were sitting at a lovely outdoor table toasting the beautiful day, and the next our table was on the move, crashing its way through the sea of other tables, banging into innocent bystanders, and making a horrible, ear-piercing, industrial-grade shriek as it scraped over the concrete pavers.

Standing out there in th dark, I felt many different things. One of them was pride in my fellow Americans, ordinary people who rose to the moment, knowing it was their last. One was humility, for I was alive and untouched by the horrors of that day, free to continue my happy life as a husband and father and writer. In the lonely blackness, I could almost taste the finiteness of life and thus it's preciousness. We take it for granted, but it is fragile, precarious, uncertain able to cease at any instant without notice. I was reminded of what should be obvious but too often is not, that each today, each hour and minute, is worth cherishing.

And the places she turns up in Jamaica are all the more curious. I remember being at sound-system dances and hearing everyone from Bob Marley Kenny Rogers (yes, Kenny Rogers) to Sade to Yellowman to Beenie Man being blasted at top volume while the crowd danced and drank up a storm. But once the selector (DJ in American parlance) began to play a Celine Dion song, the crowd went buck wild and some people started firing shots in the air.... I also remember always hearing Celine Dion blasting at high volume whenever I passed through volatile and dangerous neighborhoods, so much that it became a cue to me to walk, run or drive faster if I was ever in a neighborhood I didn't know and heard Celine Dion mawking over the airwaves.

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

They gave me star treatment because I was making a lot of money. But I was just as good when I was poor.

There's nothing wrong with being in love, Dallas. There's no weakness in making space for it in your life.

In a dog’s life, some plaster would fall, some cushions would open, some rugs would shred. Like any relationship, this one had its costs. They were costs we came to accept and balance against the joy and amusement and protection and companionship he gave us. We could have bought a small yacht with what we spent on our dog and all the things he destroyed. Then again, how many yachts wait by the door all day for your return? How many live for the moment they can climb in your lap or ride down the hill with you on a toboggan, licking your face?

the entire dining room table on his shoulders and bounce it around the room, could now barely pull himself up. He groaned in pain when he lay down, and groaned again when he struggled to his feet. I did not realize just how weak his hips had become until one day when I gave his rump a light pat and his hindquarters collapsed beneath him as though he had just received a cross-body block. Down he went. It was painful to watch. Climbing the stairs to the second floor was becoming increasingly difficult

It would always hurt. Loss was a wound that never totally healed. It left a scar. And time didn't mend the damage; it just changed the pain. It became different. But honoring a loved one's memory was remedial.

Thing is, Marls, is she’s not pissed off or angry, she’s broken. I fucking broke her … I broke us. She trusted me and I fucked it all up.

I'll tell you all day, every day, just how much you mean to me. Because I'm an idiot and it took me way too long to say it in the first place.

You're a little quiet, but you're, like, one of those quiet chicks that has big balls. I respect that.

She had a life before me, and I have a life after this. The kiss is a commemoration. An ode to the random, unexpected, and beautiful things that come into your life when you need them most.

Prima che fossimo scesi completamente dalla macchina, Marley scorse gli altri cani riuniti con i loro padroni sull'asfalto. Un party! Ci scavalcò con un balzo, saltò giù dall'auto e se la squagliò, tirandosi dietro il guinzaglio. Passò velocemente da un cane all'altro, annusando parti intime, perdendo pipì e facendo volare in aria una quantità di sputi. Per Marley era un festival degli odori - così tanti genitali, così poco tempo - e stava cogliendo il momento, attento a mantenersi davanti a me mentre gli correvo dietro. Ogni volta che l'avevo quasi raggiunto, si allontanava ancora un po'. Infine l'ebbi quasi sotto tiro e compii un balzo gigantesco, atterrando con entrambi i piedi sul suo guinzaglio. Questo lo ece arrestare così bruscamente che per un momento pensai di avergli spezzaro il collo. Scattò indietro, cadde sul dorso, si girò e mi guardò con la serena espressione di un eroinomane che si è appena fatto la dose.

I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this!

Quando svoltai l'angolo, mi fermai di colpo. Ci avrei scommesso una settimana di stipendio che quel che stavo vedendo non poteva essere vero. Il nostro turbolento, esasperato cane stava adagiato tra le ginocchia di Jenny, il grosso testone posato placidamente sul suo grembo. La coda gli penzolava piatta tra le zampe, la prima volta che non lo vedevo agitarla quando stava toccando uno di noi. Gli occhi erano alzati verso di lei, e guaiva sommessamente. Jenny gli accarezzò la testa diverse volte e poi, senza preavviso, affondò la faccia nel folto del suo collo e cominciò a singhiozzare. Forte, in modo incontrollato. Restarono così a lungo, con Marley immobile come una statua, Jenny che lo stringeva a sè come un enorme bambolotto. Io mi tenevo in disparte, sentendomi un po' come un intruso che interferiva in quel momento privato, non sapendo esattamente che cosa fare. E poi, senza alzare la faccia, Jenny mosse un braccio verso di me, e io li raggiunsi sul divano e me la strinsi contro. Restammo lì noi tre, nel nostro abbraccio di condiviso dolore.

On our first night in the house, we ripped up every square inch of the new green carpeting and dragged it to the curb. Where the carpet had been, we discovered a pristine oak plank floor that, as best as we could tell, had never suffered the scuff of a single shoe. We painstakingly sanded and varnished it to a high sheen. Then we went out and blew the better part of two week's pay for a handwoven Persian rug, which we unfurled in the living room in front of the fireplace. Over the months, we repainted every green surface and replaced every green accessory. The postal clerk's house was slowly becoming our own. Once we got the joint just right, of course, it only made sense that we bring home a large, four-legged roommate with sharp toenails, large teeth, and exceedingly limited English-language skills to start tearing it apart again.

Y-you, Marley Layton, are my favouritist big brother called Marley. The best, my very bestest one.” George points her finger up at me as she speaks. “I’m your only big brother called Marley.” “This true, this is vrery, vrery true,” she slurs.

Much. so there is free dessert involved here." I put my hand to my forehead. "oh, that i had discovered the job first!" Ryan laughs. "tragic." want to hear something tragic? my dad is going to a Christian singles' retreat." Ryan nearly spits out his coffee. "your dad?" he is shacking. Brandon wallops him on the back a few times. Ryan holds his hands up at him, coughing. "Stop," he croaks, standing. he inhales a few times and gets his voice back. "You would have to tell me this when my mouth was full, wouldn't you?" he sits again. I smile broadly. a Christian singles' retreat?" he repeats Yep," Brandon says. "Get the name: Marley's Michigan Marriage Makers." I cover my face Ryan's expression twists. " thats.... interesting," he says slowly Hallie frowns. "If its a Christian retreat, why is it called Marley's?" Its a denomination in Michigan," Brandon says. "Marlotist. I just call them Marley for fun." I double over until my head hits the table. There is not a denomination called Marlotist," Hallie says. Is too. I visited one of their churches when I went to Michigan to ski one time," Brandon says. My eyes blur with tears from laughing so hard and holding it all in. My shoulders start shaking. Brandon levels a good kick to my shin. Ow!" I reach for my leg. What is the name of it, Laurie?" Ryan asks. Meet Your Match in Michigan" Brandon scowls at me. " Spoilsport.

I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. O Jacob Marley! Heaven and the Christmas-time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees!

I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!

His insecurities hurt me just as much as they hurt him. The idea that he would think himself to be anything less than the wonderful man he is pains me. He’s more than he or anybody else gives him credit for, and I’ve made it my mission to make sure he sees the man I see.

I thanked the God of hard-ons … Erectimus? I think that was his name, or was that a transformer? Erectimus Prime? Anyway, I thanked him, the God of hard-ons, that rather than making eye contact with me, she still had her head tilted back and was staring up at the ceiling.

Do you honestly think any of them can make you feel the way I can?

Lorraine once told me, smile big when you’re sad. Smile big when you’re happy. Smile big when you’re bored. Because regardless how you feel, your face could use a stretch.

Life ignites inside of me as I reacquaint myself with my old friends, need and want, adjusting to the thrill, succumbing to the risk.

But as I lift up the lid of my most prized possession, I realize my lifeline might just be the one thing that helps me drown.

Trust me,” I murmur. “Trust me with your heart. Trust in us.

Life ignites inside of me as I reacquaint myself with my old friends 'need' and 'want', adjusting to the thrill, succumbing to the risk.

Marley, let’s get one thing straight. I've seen you in a short skirt. I've seen your bare legs and have imagined them wrapped around me. I've felt the curves of your body with my hands and the way it responds to me. I've tasted the sweetness of your mouth. There is nothing you can do to erase those images from my mind. So understand this, you could wear a Middle-eastern Burka and it wouldn't help me right now.

You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love the sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love wind, but when it comes you close your window. So that's why I'm scared when you say you love me.

You say you love the rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love the sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love the wind, but when it comes you close your windows. So that's why I'm scared, when you say you love me. -Bob Marley

Henry Thoreau said that we don’t own things; things own us. Every new object—whether it’s a home, a car, a television, or a fancy phone like that one—is something more we must carry on our backs. It makes me think of Jacob Marley telling Scrooge, ‘These are the chains I forged in life.

Know this...GOD IS BIGGER, than anything you're going through, trust him...KEEP YOUR TRUST IN HIM" -Gary Linville "I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what love is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you." "Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw, Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw; Gives exercise to faith and love, Brings every blessing from above." Nahum 1:7, "The Lord is good, a strong refuge when trouble comes. He is close to those who trust in him." "be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace." ♥ Ephesians 4:2-3 “the truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. you just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” ― Bob Marley "The thing about the shadows is that they're not all darkness. You need to have light to have shadows" - A. Meredith Walters "Light in the Shadows" (Find You in the Dark #2)

When Dad’s close enough he pulls me into his arms, hugging me with everything he has. Even then, there’s little strength behind it, the hug a reflection of the weakness we’re all left feeling. My eyes fill with tears, because it’s one thing to know your parents love you, but it’s another to know you’re still never enough.

Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in! ‘I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!’ Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. ‘The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this.’” “Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset.” “And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us!

Why do you say things like that?” “Like what?” She’s back down crouching in front of me. “You say his family like you’re not a part of that.” I can see the heartbreak in her eyes as she continues. “Like you’re not my best friend just as much as he is. As if you’re not Raine’s father just as much as he is. Like being Jesse’s husband isn’t enough to make you part of this family.

Trip Advisor: Travel the World with Haiku [D] Jerusalem, Israel Jews pray motionless and the Western Wall shakes. It's all relative. Capetown, South Africa And the coloured girls say, 'We're not Africaans, we're English.' In a total Africaans accent. Bulls Bay, Jamaica Weed, rum, guava jelly, Reggae, Marley, Red Stripe beer, O Baby, jerk that chicken. Istanbul, Turkey I asked my driver, 'Why do you believe in Allah?' He answers: 'If not, He hit me!' Cairo, Egypt Cairo International Airport, Porter drops my bags six times. Descendents of the Pharaohs, my ass. Santorini Island, Greece Greeks are like the current, They push you over and then Try to suck you in. Christiania, Denmark One thousand drug dealers, Five hundred thousand tourists. Alway$ Chri$tma$ here.*

As I walk her streets, the only thing that keeps me from stopping on every block and throwing my hands in the air in amazement are the old Jacob Marley chains we all clank around in, chains forged not so much by sin as by the weight of the weary world. But San Francisco, like the ghosts who visit Scrooge, always offers me another chance. In San Francisco, it is always Christmas morning.

So this is the Sierras, eh?” he said, looking out over the dark lake. “All that time growing up I never made it up here before.” “It’s the Range of Light,” I said, passing the joint back to him. “That’s what John Muir called it. I can see why. I’ve never seen light like I have out here. All the sunsets and sunrises against the mountains.” “You’re on a spirit walk, aren’t you?” Paco said, staring into the fire. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe you could call it that.” “That’s what it is,” he said, looking at me intensely. He stood. “I’ve got something I want to give you.” He went to the back of the truck and returned with a T-shirt. He handed it to me and I held it up. On the front was a giant picture of Bob Marley, his dreadlocks surrounded by images of electric guitars and pre-Columbian effigies in profile. On the back was a picture of Haile Selassie, the man Rastafarians thought was God incarnate, rimmed by a red and green and gold swirl. “That is a sacred shirt,” Paco said as I studied it by the firelight. “I want you to have it because I can see that you walk with the spirits of the animals, with the spirits of the earth and the sky.” I nodded, silenced by emotion and the half-drunk

It was 1977. Bob Marley was in a foreign studio, recovering from an assassin’s ambush and singing: “Many more will have to suffer. Many more will have to die. Don’t ask me why.” Bantu Stephen Biko was shackled, naked and comatose in the back of a South African police Land Rover. The Baader-Meinhof gang lay in suicide pools in a German prison. The Khmer Rouge filled their killing fields. The Weather Underground and the Young Lords Party crawled toward the final stages of violent implosion. In London, as in New York City, capitalism’s crisis left entire blocks and buildings abandoned, and the sudden appearance of pierced, mohawked, leather-jacketed punks on Kings Road set off paroxysms of hysteria. History behaved as if reset to year zero. In the Bronx, Herc’s time was passing. But the new culture that had arisen around him had captured the imagination of a new breed of youths in the Bronx. Herc had stripped down and let go of everything, save the most powerful basic elements—the rhythm, the motion, the voice, the name. In doing so, he summoned up a spirit that had been there at Congo Square and in Harlem and on Wareika Hill. The new culture seemed to whirl backward and forward—a loop of history, history as loop—calling and responding, leaping, spinning, renewing.

The kiss is fueled with pain and passion as he spills his secrets into my mouth, and my tongue greedily hoards them for safekeeping. The regret. The guilt. The shame. I kiss him hard enough to forget them. I kiss him hard enough so he’ll remember me. With every swipe of his tongue, I feel understood. With every swipe of his tongue, I feel a little less lost. With every swipe of his tongue, I feel tethered to a man I can’t have. And with that last tantalizing swipe of my tongue against his, I know I’ll never be alone again.

be apart. Despite getting rejected by my top-choice school, I was starting to really believe in myself again based on all the positive feedback we continued to get on our videos. And besides, I knew I could always reapply to Emerson the following year and transfer. • • • College started out great, with the best part being my newly found freedom. I was finally on my own and able to make my own schedule. And not only was Amanda with me, I’d already made a new friend before the first day of classes from a Facebook page that was set up for incoming freshmen. I started chatting with a pretty girl named Chloe who mentioned that she was also going to do the film and video concentration. Fitchburg isn’t located in the greatest neighborhood, but the campus has lots of green lawns and old brick buildings that look like mansions. My dorm room was a forced triple—basically a double that the school added bunk beds to in order to squeeze one extra person in. I arrived first and got to call dibs on the bunk bed that had an empty space beneath it. I moved my desk under it and created a little home office for myself. I plastered the walls with Futurama posters and made up the bed with a new bright green comforter and matching pillows. My roommates were classic male college stereotypes—the football player and the stoner. Their idea of decorating was slapping a Bob Marley poster and a giant ad for Jack Daniels on the wall.

I spent so much time tormenting myself about how I was going to go on without him, but I don't have to. Neither does Marley. We don't have to leave people behind because they've moved on to another part of their story, they can continue in ours. Grandpa, I miss you. I miss the parts I didn't even get to know. I'm still working out how to tell this story without you but I'm going to do it. I'm not like any of the things those people said. I'm like you said. You were right all along. I won't doubt it again. I think of my community here. A shield against those who seek chaos and division. The one you helped me to build, even from beyond. I smile. I feel light. I feel free. I feel ready. I wave my beret in the breeze of the river and hold it up to the sky. I may not remember the Stranger's face but I remember his words. He is so proud of you. I feel beloved and stylish all at once. Glamorous.

Qui vous le dit, qu’elle (la vie) ne vous attend pas ? Certes, elle continue, mais elle ne vous oblige pas à suivre le rythme. Vous pouvez bien vous mettre un peu entre parenthèses pour vivre ce deuil… accordez-vous le temps. *** Parce que ҫa me fait plaisir. Parce que je sais aussi que l’entourage peut se montrer très discret dans pareille situation, et que de se changer les idées de temps en temps fait du bien. Parce que je sais que vous aimez la montagne et que vous n’iriez pas toute seule. *** Oui. Si vous perdez une jambe, ҫa se voit, les gens sont conciliants. Et encore, pas tous. Mais quand c’est un morceau de votre cœur qui est arraché, ҫa ne se voit pas de l’extérieur, et c’est au moins aussi douloureux… Ce n’est pas de la faute des gens. Ils ne se fient qu’aux apparences. Il faut gratter pour voir ce qu’il y a au fond. Si vous jetez une grosse pierre dans une mare, elle va faire des remous à la surface. Des gros remous d'abord, qui vont gifler les rives, et puis des remous plus petits, qui vont finir par disparaître. Peu à peu, la surface redevient lisse et paisible. Mais la grosse pierre est quand même au fond. La grosse pierre est quand même au fond. *** La vie s’apparente à la mer. Il y a les bruit des vagues, quand elles s’abattent sur la plage, et puis le silence d’après, quand elles se retirent. Deux mouvement qui se croissent et s’entrecoupent sans discontinuer. L’un est rapide, violent, l’autre est doux et lent. Vous aimeriez vous retirer, dans le même silence des vagues, partir discrètement, vous faire oublier de la vie. Mais d’autres vague arrivent et arriveront encore et toujours. Parce que c’est ҫa la vie… C’est le mouvement, c’est le rythme, le fracas parfois, durant la tempête, et le doux clapotis quand tout est calme. Mais le clapotis quand même Un bord de mer n'est jamais silencieux, jamais. La vie non plus, ni la vôtre, ni la mienne. Il y a les grains de sables exposés aux remous et ceux protégés en haut de la plage. Lesquels envier? Ce n'est pas avec le sable d'en haut, sec et lisse, que l'on construit les châteaux de sable, c'est avec celui qui fraye avec les vagues car ses particules sont coalescentes. Vous arriverez à reconstruire votre château, vous le construirez avec des grains qui vous ressemblent, qui ont aussi connu les déferlantes de la vie, parce qu'avec eux, le ciment est solide.. *** « Tu ne sais jamais à quel point tu es fort jusqu’au jour où être fort reste la seule option. » C’est Bob Marley qui a dit ҫa. *** Manon ne referme pas violemment la carte du restaurant. Elle n’éprouve pas le besoin qu’il lui lise le menu pour qu’elle ne voie pas le prix, et elle trouvera égal que chaque bouchée vaille cinq euros. Manon profite de la vie. Elle accepte l’invitation avec simplicité. Elle défend la place des femmes sans être une féministe acharnée et cela ne lui viendrait même pas à l’idée de payer sa part. D’abord, parce qu’elle sait que Paul s’en offusquerait, ensuite, parce qu’elle aime ces petites marques de galanterie, qu’elle regrette de voir disparaître avec l’évolution d’une société en pertes de repères.

Something More Fragile Than This" Quick before our bodies turn themselves in, with a reverence reserved for the dead touch me because I want to remember how beautiful I am. While Spring snows around us, cracking her eggs on our windows, in her meager dress of yellowing-white, because I want to rise into today. So why the urge to render something more fragile than this? Why, always, the soul blowing glass? The soul, once again, filling the lungs with smoke because a memory of regret sweats in the plastic sleeve of a family album. Because there’s a snapshot caught between the pages of some thick book: my heavy 20 year old frame setting off the 60lb weight of a dying mother. Because somewhere, there’s a negative slide of my heart. Because and because and because I’m sure there’s a photo in some drawer that shows me dressed in black. But I want to devote myself to the mystery of this afternoon. I want to honor this falling night, worship the hour vanishing between six and seven. This moment where I’m standing against myself and against you with a taste in my mouth that’s yolk. With Bob Marley taking that one long drag on the refrigerator door.