A Quote by Alice Walker
If she come, I be happy. If she don't, I be content.
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As one woman told me, "When I decided to come in to work happy, everybody around me became happy." This woman had decided to quit a job she hated, and on the last day of her two weeks' notice, she woke up happy. At the end of the day, she noticed that everybody around her was happy, too- so she didn't quit after all. She decided to come to work happy instead. Two years later, she's still on the job, radiating happiness and love.
Valentines Day is the day we celebrate real love. A love so strong that two hearts become one. And when she's happy, you're happy. And when she's angry, you can still choose to be happy, 'cos, what's her deal ? You know, I'm happy. Why is she bringing me down, you know ? Oh great, now look, I'm getting all mad. I hope she's happy. Happy Valentine's Day.
For the first time, she did want more. She did not know what she wanted, knew that it was dangerous and that she should rest content with what she had, but she knew an emptiness deep inside her, which began to ache.
I am just so thankful that my mom was a fantastic mom. She wasn't a stage mother; she didn't push me. She was happy if I was happy. We are so different. I was very shy; my mom did all the talking. She was my strength. She never expected that I would be this ballerina.
Daisy was a consciously happy young woman without any of the usual endowments that make for conscious happiness, money apart. She was not pretty, she was not clever, she had no friends, no talents, nor even an imagination to make her think she was happy when she was really miserable. As she was never miserable, she had no need of an imagination.
She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.
She is such a doer, Cara - she is so ambitious. She has always known what she wants, and she's a hustler. Sometimes I call her, and I'm like, 'You need to help me hustle,' and she is like, 'Come on!'
For me, glamour was always an escape. When I was a kid, my mother was hospitalized, she was schizophrenic. When she was sick, she wouldn't do her hair or her makeup, and she just looked terrible. But when she got on medication and she was happy, she would go to the beauty parlor and wear makeup. So I really associate glamour with being happy. If you put on high heels and lipstick or get a new outfit, you feel great. It's a celebration of loving yourself, and the whole ritual of it is so great.
I try not to judge my characters. If I'm looking at it from the outside, I'd say, 'No, she's not really a great mother.' But she wishes she were, and she wants to be, and she still has instincts toward protecting her son and wanting him to be a happy person.
Deep in her heart, she wasn't sure she deserved to be happy, nor did she believe that she was worthy of someone who seemed...normal.
When The Queen invited the Olympians to the Palace, I was first in line to speak to her. She said she watched the Games and how happy she was, how impressed she was with the boxing. She told me she'd watched my fight and enjoyed it. I didn't realise the effect I'd had on the whole country.
And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. but she was through with it except in her memories.
I discuss everything with Tanushree no matter which part of the world she is in. She is the reason I make good decisions. She advises me to concentrate and work hard. She keeps telling me that she is proud of me - that makes me content with my work.
When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word.
Do you know what happens when an Arabian woman dances? She does not dance: she protests, she loves, she cries, she makes love, she dreams, she goes away from her reality, to her own world, where love is really meant and she does not want to come back, because that is her reality.
I love Marilyn Monroe. I think she was the coolest blonde. I think like me she just didn't care what anyone thinks. She's happy. She's smiling. I don't know, I just always thought she was so beautiful and she just seemed, like, magical.
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