Trinidad Love Quotes

People ask me all the time how I got hired onto the Office. Another common question is how do I manage to stay so down-to-earth in the face of such incredible success? ... A third frequently asked question is: "Girl, where you from? Trinidad? Guyana? Dominican Republic? You married? You got kids?" This is mostly asked by guys on the sidewalk selling I LOVE NEW YORK paraphernalia in New York City.

Absolutely love this particular excerpt: "Books are silent friends, and should be treated well. I am proud of my books. I hope that my children will use them and preserve them when I am gone from this world. Human friends may betray you, but not so with books. Books contain wisdom for our understanding, humour for our entertainment, information for our development, and matter for our pleasure.

The news of [James Baldwin's] death reached me in Trinidad around midnight. I was lecturing in the country about African-American literature and liberation, longevity and love, commitment and courage. I could not sleep. I got up and walked out of my hotel room into a night filled with stars. And I sat down in the park and talked to him. About the world. About his work. How grateful we all are that he walked on the earth, that he breathed, that he preached, that he came toward us baptizing us with his holy words. And some of us were saved because of him. Harlem man. Genius. Piercing us with his eyes and his pen. How to write of this beautiful big-eyed man who took on the country with his words? How to make anyone understand his beauty in a country that hates Blacks?

The clouds parted on your way Dear...did you see it...the angels sang that much sweeter Mum..did you notice...God Himself met you at the Gates...did you thank Him...He gave you rest, peace, and Happiness..no more pain..and suffering Mother Dear... you are Home now.." To Sheila Robertson from your Loving Son...Forever Yours Mum...Christopher

Trinidad wouldn’t trust Blaze and probably would punish him for simply being told he was next in charge. In return, Blaze would tell me every little thing I wanted to know in order to win my favor.

Dear Lord take to to that place high up in the hills then down into the valley of peace where my mind is at rest, my soul is awakened with joy, the colours are brighter, the water clearer and my entire being is in your Loving Hands" Amen

The fleeting beating butterfly thing we call love that only lasts as long as it does and just like the fluttering wings of the butterfly its gone before you can wink.

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Trinidad was normally laid back and didn’t speak much, but today he was running his damn mouth too much for my nerves. “You

Now Trinidad had a conscience. Something was off and I was going to find out about that as soon as I dealt with J-Boy.

After killing that snitchin’ ass nigga Trinidad, I elevated J-Boy to the point where he was now over his trap and Trinidad’s.

I knew I was playing with fire messing with J-Boy while I was still fuckin’ around with Trinidad. Although Trinidad was still with my sister, he’d made it clear that he claimed my ass as his.

Although I couldn’t stand my sister, I hadn’t told anyone who her baby daddy was. I kept that a secret from J-Boy for more than one reason; partly because Kelis asked me to, but mostly because I didn’t want him to know of the connection between me and Trinidad.

The night that Andrews had told me about Trinidad’s death, was either the best day of my life or the worst. I wasn’t entirely certain just yet.

Standing up, I looked at my work. Trinidad’s black face was now black, blue and splattered with blood. His

Trinidad would be starting at the bottom for the shit he’d said against me. I didn’t give a fuck if he only owed $50,000. He now had to pay dues for opening up his fat mouth.

Pablo Picasso entered the world howling. Seconds after he was born, one of the hospital physicians, his uncle Don Salvador, leaned down and blew a huge cloud of cigar smoke in the newborn’s face. The baby grimaced and bellowed in protest—and that’s how everyone knew he was healthy and alive. At that time, doctors were allowed to smoke in delivery rooms, but this little infant would have none of it. Even at birth, he refused to accept things as they had always been done. The baby was named Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Martyr Patricio Clito Ruíz y Picasso—whew! He was known to his friends as Pablito, a nickname meaning “little Pablo,” and he learned to draw before he could walk. His first word was piz, short for lápiz, the Spanish word for pencil. It was an instrument that would soon become his most prized possession. Pablo inherited his love of art from his father, Don José Ruiz y Blasco, a talented painter. Don José’s favorite subjects were the pigeons that flocked in the plaza outside the Picassos’ home in Málaga, a town on the southern coast of Spain. Sometimes he would allow Pablo to finish paintings for him. One of Pablo’s earliest solo artworks was a portrait of his little sister, which he painted with egg yolk. But painting was not yet his specialty. Drawing was. Pablo mostly liked to draw spirals. When people asked him why, he explained that they reminded him of churros, the fried-dough pastries sold at every streetcorner stand in Málaga. While other kids played underneath trees in the Plaza de la Merced, Pablo stood by himself scratching circles in the dirt with a stick.

People always ask me what is my favourite thing about Trinidad. It is a hard question because ! love the beaches and the music of Trinidad, but... I think the food is the best of all!

A Tribute to my Daughter well well well....twenty nine years have come and gone and oh so too quickly.... I tearfully remember my very first child and the dramatic night you came into our lives...you changed us forever Xio...you Blessed our lives....I remember also the first day you looked me straight in my eyes.. you were being held in my right hand after a bath..you turned your head towards me and stared at me like you had never done before...the instant that happened I knew you were acknowledging the fact that I was yours...that's how that look felt... you placed the stamp of your soul in my hands... I knew in that moment that my role as a Father had truly begun... that look told me so... you made it very clear.....no person on this planet ever touched my very soul the way my baby girl did with that first stare..the beautiful brown eyes.. the inquisitive little look that quickly turned in to a very meaningful stare... I actually had to take a sharp breath....I was hooked...hooked for life... now you have grown from the baby we so loved and took care of... the little girl we watched grow...the smart little teenager you became.. I remember our lovely trip to England and Paris.. somehow that trip was meant to be...just the two of us...my little girl and me....you were so very young....I remember the flight...the landing...the excitement in your face...the look in your eyes...and somehow on that trip as we walked along the Champs-Elysees in Paris....I caught a glimpses of the young lady that was in you... I saw the big heart, the loving smiles. the kindness you so openly show... and here we are now.. many years later....you have matured into a very fine young woman.. a bright future... a work of art. At 58 I have met many souls, thousands I think... people of so many types and personalities...so many differences, in so many different places.. yet every time I look at you and especially when I see that beautiful smile...I think to myself... God is real...and man oh man He's really...really....good. I wish you a wonderful Birthday Xio and many many more to come....God Bless you Xio... God Bless you. Love you this much, Dad

When I was seven years old sitting in a tree enjoying the breeze and the gentle sway.. I thought to myself, “surely no one loves like I do”, it’s just not possible, for here I am, in love with the baby blue sky, the Sun, the Earth, the Seas and the forests, I love birds, ants and all of the world’s animals. But then, that was long before I had children

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But talking to Boysie over the months I realised that apart from Diwali celebrations he ain’t know one fart about being Hindu. I’m sure he doesn’t remember when last he went inside a mandir. Just like my parents, he ma and baap crossed the kala pani from India and born Boysie in Trinidad. But that is where the Indianness stop.

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