Susan Boyle Quotes

There are enough people in the world who are going to write you off. You don't need to do that to yourself.

The one's who were mean to me are now nice to me.

If my story means anything, it is that people are very often too quick to judge a person by the way they look or by their quirks of behavior. I may not have quite the same sense of humour as other people, but at least I do have a sense of humour, and I've needed it! As a society, we seem to have very tight restrictions on what is considered "normal.

Yes, it was scary, but every time I got a frisson of fear I tried to remember what Frank Quinn was always telling me. "Susan, believe in yourself. You are the person writing your story.

I was slightly brain damaged at birth, and I want people like me to see that they shouldn't let a disability get in the way. I want to raise awareness - I want to turn my disability into ability.

Unmarried women in their forties, with false teeth and tousled hair, aren't usually held in the highest esteem by our society. The feeling seemed to be that if I could be a success then anyone could!

Sometimes things don't turn out the way you want them to, but that doesn't mean you should give up, because there's usually a positive to take from a failure. It's only afterwards that you can look back and see all the steps you have made on your journey.

I didn’t “teach” Ron Hansen or Stephen Wright or T. Coraghessan Boyle or Susan Taylor Chehak or Allan Gurganus or Gail Harper or Kent Haruf or Robert Chibka or Douglas Unger how to write, but I hope I may have encouraged them and saved them a little time. I did nothing more for them than Kurt Vonnegut did for me, but in my case Mr. Vonnegut—and Mr. Yount and Mr. Williams—did quite a lot. I’m talking about technical blunders, the perpetration of sheer boredom, point-of-view problems, the different qualities of first-person and third-person voice, the deadening effect of exposition in dialogue, the crippling limitations of the present tense, the intrusions upon narrative momentum caused by puerile and pointless experimentation—and on and on.

When you’re A child, grown-ups always tell you that ‘Stix and Stones Can break you’re bones, but words will never hurt you.’ They say it as if it’s a kind of spell that’s going to protect you. I’ve never seen the logic of it. Cuts and bruises quickly heal and disappear. You forget all about them. The psychological ones that people inflict with words go much deeper. Even now, I don’t like to think about those times too much, in case the scars begin to open up and hurt, making me feel useless all over again.

Buddha’s Brain (Rick Hanson with Richard Mendius) The Hidden Lamp (Florence Caplow and Susan Moon, eds.) Mind in Life (Evan Thompson) Realizing Awakened Consciousness (Richard P. Boyle) Reflections on a Mountain Lake (Ani Tenzin Palmo)

The spring of 2009 was a time for dreamers. Susan Boyle strutted across the stage of Britain’s Got Talent in a hotel-​wallpaper dress, stared bravely into the souls of dubious teenage emos, and belted out a beautiful performance of “I Dreamed a Dream” that instantly gave her international fame. Elsewhere, a Wikipedia user going by the name “Jiffman” dreamed a dream too. Only he wanted the world to see him stick his penis in his mouth.

There’s something about the rhythm of a long walk, like the tick-tock of a metronome, that allows your thoughts to shuffle themselves into some sort of order.