Mary Davis Quotes

We are made whole By books, as by great spaces and the stars

A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter's drawing near. His head is within our hand in his old way.

I believe in love Nicholas Davies - Earl of Aberdare

The more grateful I am, the more beauty I see.

What can we learn from women like Gertrude "Ma" Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Billie Holiday that we may not be able to learn from Ida B. Wells, Anna Julia Cooper, and Mary Church Terrell? If we were beginning to appreciate the blasphemies of fictionalized blues women - especially their outrageous politics of sexuality - and the knowledge that might be gleaned from their lives about the possibilities of transforming gender relations within black communities, perhaps we also could benefit from a look at the artistic contributions of the original blues women.

A walk in nature walks the soul back home.

Gratitude makes sweet miracles of small moments.

Every act of kindness spreads peace to the world, love to the heart, light to us all.

You said you have issues and, you know, I'm sure you do, because we all have issues and yeah, some are a lot more complicated than others, but at the end of the day, everyone has something in there past that isn't pleasant" "The thing is, you can go on living in the past, never letting yourself heal and move on, or you can accept what happened, painful as that might be, and then realize that you have a life and now and you have something wonderful right in front of you

Tell me something. Why is everyone so determined to believe Wilton is innocent?" Surprised, Davies said, "He's a war hero isn't he? Admired by the King and a friend of the Prince of Wales. He's visited Sandringham, been received by Queen Mary herself! A man like that doesn’t go around killing people!" With a wry downturn of his lips, Rutledge silently asked, How did he win his medals, you fool, if not by being so very damned good at killing?

Sometimes when we just stand still, the grace finds us.

The cry of my body for completeness, that is a cry to you.

Your inner light is what makes you beautiful.

The angel had said to Mary, "Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!" And this blessing isn't always what we think- the happy ending we wanted and the desires of our hearts fulfilled.

Look back with joy. Look forward with hope. Be present with peace.

Today I choose calm over chaos, serenity over stress, peace over perfection, grace over grit, faith over fear.

* I am infinitely grateful to be alive. Each breath reminds me of the sacred gift of life.

May we be at peace in our hearts. May we be at peace in our homes. May we be at peace with each other. May we imagine peace in our world.

We all change the world whether we intend to or not. And we always change the world for the better when we plant the seeds of kind thoughts and words.

She hands me an ornament of The Virgin Mary. "Pray to the Holy Mary, Mother of God!" I notice she has a gold chain round her neck. It has the holy cross and a shamrock

There is a famous study from the 1930s involving a group of orphanage babies who, at mealtimes, were presented with a smorgasbord of thirty-four whole, healthy foods. Nothing was processed or prepared beyond mincing or mashing. Among the more standard offerings—fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, milk, chicken, beef—the researcher, Clara Davis, included liver, kidney, brains, sweetbreads, and bone marrow. The babies shunned liver and kidney (as well as all ten vegetables, haddock, and pineapple), but brains and sweetbreads did not turn up among the low-preference foods she listed. And the most popular item of all? Bone marrow.

The thing in jazz that will get Bix Beiderbecke out of his bed at two o’clock in the morning, pick that cornet up and practice into the pillow for another two or three hours, or that would make Louis Armstrong travel around the world for fifty plus years non stop, just get up out of his sick bed, crawl up on the bandstand and play, the thing that would make Duke Ellington, the thing that would make Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Mary Lou Williams, the thing that would make all of these people give their lives for this, and they did give their lives, is that it gives us a glimpse into what America is going to be when it becomes itself. And this music tells you that it will become itself. And when you get a taste of that, there’s just nothing else you’re going to taste that’s as sweet.

And so I sit on the dunes in my carefully mismatched clothes, hour after hour, day after day, frozen in my looking back. 'Do not look behind you...lest you be swept away.' That is what scripture say. Only there is nowhere for me to look but back. No future. No redemption. Like Lot's wife, I am turned to salt, my tired eyes trained on the blue-gray horizon, where sea meets sky, where my yesterday's met my tomorrows, a ragtag eccentric, watching and waiting for something that never comes.

In a silent morning moment, with a silent voice I pray, to lift a silent sunrise offering on silent wings of grace.

Say 'I love you' out loud and often.

Set up some reminders on your phone, in your journal or on sticky notes to help remember throughout the day to ask for blessings and assistance.

May your holidays be filled with the spirit of joy, the wisdom of sight, the heart of love and the soul of light.

Anticipate beauty. Believe in miracles. Count on grace. Decide on joy. Expect peace.

We can't heal the world today, but we can begin with a voice of compassion, a heart of love, and an act of kindness.

May we be mindful of the joy that lives right where we are—tangled lights and all.

When you’re feeling stressed, count the ways you’re blessed.

May the blessings of this day radiate through your smile, be helpful through your hands and shine through your heart.

May you be inspired by giving, changed by love, filled with peace and touched by miracles.

Beneath the drift of earthly sound, strong silent soul unbound. Unique as a snowflake, soft as her flight, still as the ground beneath the quiet winter’s night.

marie Kondo says to tri-fold your underwear. The admiral swears making your bed will change your life. Rachel Hollis thinks the key to success is washing your face and believing in yourself. Capsule wardrobes! Rainbow-colored organization! Bullet journals! How many of these have we tried? How many did we stick with? If you’re like me, the answer is probably none.

May today bring us simple things in simple packages. Easy-to-use things. Things we can tuck into our hearts and don’t require instructions or batteries. Simple things like love and peace, like comfort and joy.

If I had known what trouble you were bearing; What griefs were in the silence of your face; I would have been more gentle, and more caring, And tried to give you gladness for a space. I would have brought more warmth into the place, If I had known. If I had known what thoughts despairing drew you; (Why do we never try to understand?) I would have lent a little friendship to you, And slipped my hand within your hand, And made your stay more pleasant in the land, If I had known.

Maybe it’s time to decide I am going to wake with joy and enthusiasm each morning and treat myself to simple delights that awaken my soul. Maybe it’s time to bust out of my field of habit and sail over the split rail fence of new beginnings.

The crickets were rubbing their hind legs together, unrolling that endless band of sound that when combined with the sound of the sycamore trees losing their heads in the heat-thickened breeze could cause even a girl as unsentimental as Mary to feel like she’d just left something behind on the porch stoop she couldn’t bear to live without.

Plainly, evil is the antithesis of God, which is the antithesis of love. What we know as original sin is simply our propensity to wallow in shame and fear. Both emotions led me to harm myself and others. I discovered that “sin” was not a checklist of dos and don’ts. Sin was more complex and more simple. I needed to navigate my soul out of this mess and return to true love.

May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your field. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand. Today in celebration of Saint Patrick’s Day, we welcome some traditional Irish blessings. May these gentle prayers settle into your soul like a sweet, soft mantra of comfort and serenity.

After these walk-ons, she would banter with announcer Ken Niles and perhaps indulge in more stargazing. In her memoir, radio actress Mary Jane Higby recalls working the show. The “underpaid radio actors” soon took to calling themselves “the Gay Ad-Libbers.” They “would circle the microphone, trying to simulate people having a marvelous time. ‘What fun to be here!’ they would cry. ‘My, doesn’t Myrna Loy look gorgeous! Whoops, there’s Bette Davis!

Even as Trump eagerly asked aides to relay information from newspaper headlines, including whether his name was mentioned, he had never shown much interest in books. A cabinet next to his bedside contained a book that Ivana later said she saw him occasionally leafing through: an anthology of Adolf Hitler’s speeches called My New Order. (“It was my friend Marty Davis from Paramount who gave me a copy of Mein Kampf, and he’s a Jew,” Trump claimed when pressed about it by journalist Marie Brenner.

Unscrupulous vendors turn the situation to their advantage. In China, nouveau-riche status-seekers are spending small fortunes on counterfeit Bordeaux. A related scenario exists here vis-à-vis olive oil. “The United States is a dumping ground for bad olive oil,” Langstaff told me. It’s no secret among European manufacturers that Americans have no palate for olive oils. The Olive Center—a recent addition to the Robert Mondavi Institute for Wine and Food Science, on the campus of the University of California at Davis—aims to change that.

Indigenous Lives Holding Our World Together, by Brenda J. Child American Indian Stories, by Zitkala-Sa A History of My Brief Body, by Billy-Ray Belcourt The Falling Sky: Words of a Yanomami Shaman, by Davi Kopenawa and Bruce Albert Apple: Skin to the Core, by Eric Gansworth Heart Berries, by Terese Marie Mailhot The Blue Sky, by Galsan Tschinag Crazy Brave, by Joy Harjo Standoff, by Jacqueline Keeler Braiding Sweetgrass, by Robin Wall Kimmerer You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me, by Sherman Alexie Spirit Car, by Diane Wilson Two Old Women, by Velma Wallis Pipestone: My Life in an Indian Boarding School, by Adam Fortunate Eagle Split Tooth, by Tanya Tagaq Walking the Rez Road, by Jim Northrup Mamaskatch, by Darrel J. McLeod

The malicious erasure of women’s names from the historical record began two or three thousand years ago and continues into our own period. Women take as great a risk of anonymity when they merge their names with men in literary collaboration as when they merge in matrimony. The Lynds, for example, devoted equal time, thought, and effort to the writing of Middletown, but today it is Robert Lynd’s book. Dr. Mary Leakey made the important paleontological discoveries in Africa, but Dr. Louis Leakey gets all the credit. Mary Beard did a large part of the work on America in Midpassage, yet Charles Beard is the great social historian. The insidious process is now at work on Eve Curie. A recent book written for young people states that radium was discovered by Pierre Curie with the help of his assistant, Eve, who later became his wife. Aspasia wrote the famous oration to the Athenians, as Socrates knew, but in all the history books it is Pericles’ oration. Corinna taught Pindar and polished his poems for posterity; but who ever heard of Corinna? Peter Abelard got his best ideas from Heloise, his acknowledged intellectual superior, yet Abelard is the great medieval scholar and philosopher. Mary Sidney probably wrote Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia; Nausicaa wrote the Odyssey, as Samuel Butler proves in his book The Authoress of the Odyssey, at least to the satisfaction of this writer and of Robert Graves, who comment, “no other alternative makes much sense.

My deepest appreciation to: Everyone at Scholastic Press, especially Marijka Kostiw, Kristina Albertson, Tracy Mack, and Leslie Budnick. Tracey Adams, my wonderful agent. The members of my critique groups, each of whom possess that rare combination of Charlotte the spider: a true friend and a good writer. My retreat-mates who put me on the right track: Franny Billingsley, Toni Buzzeo, Sarah Lamstein, Dana Walrath, Mary Atkinson, Carol Peacock, and Jackie Davies. With special thanks to Amy Butler Greenfield, Nancy Werlin, Amanda Jenkins, Denise Johns, Melissa Wyatt, Lisa Firke, Lisa Harkrader, Laura Weiss, Mary Pearson, Amy McAuley, and Kristina Cliff-Evans. And to my parents, Earl and Elaine Lord, who gave me wings but always left the porch light on to show the way home.

Is there something uniquely dangerous about beans? I posed this question to plant scientist Ann Filmer, recently retired from the University of California, Davis. In her reply, she included a link for a website she had put together on poisonous garden plants. I was taken aback to note that nine of the 112 plants in Category 1 (Major Toxicity: “may cause serious illness or death”) were currently, or had recently been, growing in our yard: oleander, lantana, night-blooming jasmine, lobelia, rhododendron, azalea, toyon, pittosporum, and hellebore. Another, the houseplant croton, was growing in an orange ceramic pot in my office. In other words, it’s not beans. It’s plants, period. If you can’t flee or maul or fire a gun, evolution may help you out with other, quieter ways to avoid being eaten. Over the millennia, natural selection favors eaters who turn up their proboscis at you, and eventually they all steer clear.

Nartok shows me an example of Arctic “greens”: cutout number 13, Caribou Stomach Contents. Moss and lichen are tough to digest, unless, like caribou, you have a multichambered stomach in which to ferment them. So the Inuit let the caribou have a go at it first. I thought of Pat Moeller and what he’d said about wild dogs and other predators eating the stomachs and stomach contents of their prey first. “And wouldn’t we all,” he’d said, “be better off.” If we could strip away the influences of modern Western culture and media and the high-fructose, high-salt temptations of the junk-food sellers, would we all be eating like Inuit elders, instinctively gravitating to the most healthful, nutrient-diverse foods? Perhaps. It’s hard to say. There is a famous study from the 1930s involving a group of orphanage babies who, at mealtimes, were presented with a smorgasbord of thirty-four whole, healthy foods. Nothing was processed or prepared beyond mincing or mashing. Among the more standard offerings—fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, milk, chicken, beef—the researcher, Clara Davis, included liver, kidney, brains, sweetbreads, and bone marrow. The babies shunned liver and kidney (as well as all ten vegetables, haddock, and pineapple), but brains and sweetbreads did not turn up among the low-preference foods she listed. And the most popular item of all? Bone marrow.

I think of the self-proclaimed agrarian farmer and scholar Victor Davis Hanson who in his book Fields Without Dreams, wrote sneeringly but also with grief: 'They [city people] no longer care where or how they get their food, as long as it is firm, fresh, and cheap. They have no interest in preventing the urbanization of their farmland as long as parks, Little League fields and an occasional bike lane are left amid the concrete, stucco, and asphalt. They have no need of someone who they are not, who reminds them of their past and not their future. Their romanticism for the farmer is just that, an artificial and quite transient appreciation of his rough-cut visage against the horizon the stuff of a wine commercial, cigarette ad, or impromptu rock concert.' People in the cities don't see farmers clearly. The farmers are overlooked, and instead of being seen as recognizably real, the farmer is romanticized.

May I judge less and love more.

Prayer. There's always something we can do to change the world.

I forgive myself and others with the assistance of divine grace, and open to the freedom of pure love flowing in and out of my heart.

All day, in every decision, we get to choose between going with the flow and holding on to control.

* I believe in a world where I am constantly, relentlessly blessed. It is safe for me to let go of control and ask for guidance. I am listening.

* Your heart knows when you’ve had a spiritual experience. No one can dispute your personal knowing. Even if you are the only one that knows, it’s real. Believe what your heart knows to be true.

When I rejoice, the angels rejoice with me.

May I resist a view of the world that creates separation and judgment. Lead me away from comparisons and jealousy for the experience of another. Bless my heart.

In one step, everything can change. We never know what the next hour will hold. But to be sure, the divine will let us know where we are meant to be.

When we fly, we exercise our inborn strength to move forward in our lives with resilience, over and over again.

Start and end your meditation with a prayer or intention to be in the presence of God and to make an offering of your practice. Make meditation a non-negotiable part of your day.

There will be no shortage of demands on our resources, so there’s no time like the present to implement a little soul care to reconnect, tune in and calm down. This is when we ask for assistance in getting through the sticky note jungle of tasks. Yes, this is where we get the clarity and support to get through the day with joy, ease and grace. We should not have to function without our biggest source of support.

It’s totally possible to get through incredibly busy, stressful days while feeling a center of calm balance. It is our natural state of grace.

Our bodies and minds might be shopping, but our souls naturally want to wait. In this Season of Lights, we are preparing a place in our hearts into which rebirth takes place. Let’s listen.

And be patient. And wait. Let’s open and receive, preparing the way—for the greatest love.

Be still for a moment now. Allow yourself to thoughtfully examine what makes this time personal and special for you. You can enlist the help of a higher being to help you to find more depth in the holiday season. Make space to contemplate your sacred traditions. They will add meaning to every gift, every party, every song.

I radiate kind, calm and compassionate energy, especially in times when those around me are anxious.

Bless this new day with limitless possibilities.

I want to be fearless. I want to be courageous and unshakable. I want to face this day with the joy of believing in myself—having faith that with this brush of love I will paint a most beautiful day. A masterpiece. Which is impossible to do if I’m afraid of all kinds of disastrous things happening.

Today I transform my fears into ideal end results. I let my worries go so I can open my eyes to the good that surrounds me now.

May today be the dawn of a shining new beginning. I release the past and open to receive blessings beyond my wildest dreams.

treating others with dignity and honor. When we respect others, they often rise and treat us in a dignified manner in return.

Peace and love to everyone.

Today, may we approach our challenges as possibilities. May we approach our problems as opportunities. May we be open to receiving answers in creative ways.

Best of all, the goldfinch came for a visit today to be a living example of the countless small gifts of beauty that surround us in this very moment. Maybe in noticing her presence—like noticing a smile, or a flower, or a kind word—we are reminded that joy is finding the holy in the small, and the sacred in the everyday.

We are all in need of love and encouragement. It’s up to us to begin the process of filling this need in the home of our own hearts. Even when we feel broken or inadequate, within us is a radiant being worthy of our gentle kindness.

Kindness begins in the middle. At home. With yourself.

Be genuinely interested in your loved ones, asking questions and learning about them as they change and grow, not assuming to know all of their secrets. Let go a little and allow the relationship to breathe new life.

Make today an experiment with co-creation. Bring a divine loving force into every minute, every hour, every decision great and small.

We have learned that everything we need for sacred travel, we have within. We have all of the wisdom we need to navigate the journey.

Receive in your heart this blessing for the precious year before you.

I listen to my inner wisdom and am in balance with the wisdom of nature. I allow myself to slow down and enjoy stillness.

Today may I judge less and love more.

It’s comforting to know that grace is always here. Every day, no matter what challenge presents itself, we have ready support and wisdom that far surpasses our mind’s ability to see our way clear of earthly dilemmas.

Everything Is Possible Have faith. Dream big. Lead with your heart. Follow your bliss.

Change brings with it the opportunity to begin again and move one step closer to who you are and what you love. Face your transformation with enthusiasm, courage, reverence and an open heart.

Friends are those who grace us with unconditional love and solidarity.

Friends are those who are present for us in times of suffering. They comfort us with compassionate companionship through grief.

The loving assistance of our guardians will lift us up in all aspects of today.

The door that closed was not your door. Your door will invite you in.

We are not our titles, our jobs or our salaries. We are so much more than that. We are infinite possibility. When we follow the authentic yearnings of the heart, we can’t miss. When doors close, it means others were meant to open.

Believe, pray, pay attention, be the absolute best version of yourself, and life will unfold as it should.

Enjoy life. It’s a gift. Unwrap it with gratitude and love. —Tiny Guru

We are not our mistakes. We are beautiful souls who have come here to experience this precious gift of life together.

Inhale: Love in. Exhale: Love out.

Life is a garden of chances in which we are planted, germinate, grow, bloom, release seeds of wisdom, and plant ourselves again. There are many shades and varieties of you.

When we meditate, we surrender our thoughts and the illusion of control over our lives. Similarly, when we ask to be blessed, we admit that we could use a little divine backup.

I am thankful for this precious life, this precious day, this precious moment.

Our challenges today come into perspective when we consider the plight of those who experience greater suffering. Allow your thoughts to go to such a soul, and count your precious blessings all day long.

Gratitude fills my heart for the gift of this moment in time.