A Quote by Amanda Lindhout

For a while, the world for me was like a set of monkey bars. I swung from one place to the next, sometimes backward, sometimes forward, capitalizing on my own momentum, knowing that at some point my arms... would give out, and I'd fall to the ground.
I swung from one place to the next, sometimes backward, sometimes forward, capitalizing on my own momentum, knowing that at some point my arms—or, more accurately, my quivering bank balance, accessed through foreign ATMs—would give out, and I’d fall to the ground.
Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.
A good hair day is when my curls are popping. Sometimes my curls and waves, they like to go a little wild sometimes. They have a mind of their own. But some days, they just fall right into place.
That's sort of what I try to do with music: to harness whatever energy is already there and see where that momentum takes me. Sometimes you're spinning that oncoming momentum in a different direction, or sometimes you're coercing it to consider itself, or sometimes you're holding it up to a mirror. But I don't really like to interrupt and come in and destroy everything and start all over. I'm not that kind of guy.
I used to juggle from one set to the next. I would start at 5 A. M. in the morning and would sometimes finish only at 5 A. M. the next day. I would then go home, take a bath and set out again. There would be no sleep at all.
"Monkey bars," Annabeth said. "I'm great at these." She leaped onto to the first rung and started swinging her way across. She was scared of tiny spiders, but not of plummeting to her death from a set of monkey bars. Go figure.
You decide that you don't want to go backward. You want to go forward. But sometimes, going 'backward' isn't really going backward, it's actually moving forward.
Old age is another country, a place of strangeness, sometimes, and dislocation. There's a lot to be done in this country, and a great deal of pleasure there. There are friends, some of whom are sick and needful of you, as you will be of them someday. The world itself is very beautiful. It's a place where you have a lot to do. But you have to do it knowing that sometimes you will be afraid of this new country.
Sometimes with these things all the pieces fall into place. I mean, we've been talking about this for years and we don't have the script now, but sometimes things fall into place very quickly, and if everything lines up it could happen.
I lay there knowing something eerie ties us to the world of animals. Sometimes the animals pull you backward into it. You share hunger and fear with them like salt in blood.
We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out but wander further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it's easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found.
Every time I read to her, it was like I was courting her, because sometimes, just sometimes, she would fall in love with me again, just like she had a long time ago. And that's the most wonderful feeling in the world. How many people are ever given that chance? To have someone you love fall in love with you over and over?
People say sometimes that I'm distracted. I'm not distracted. I'm being smart. I'm capitalizing while the iron is hot. That's why I'm trying to do movies. I do the podcast. I do a radio show. I work on FOX. I have a gym; I have a lot of things going on. That's because when I'm done, I want to be set up.
Sometimes, growth isn't always equal to success. You may fall forward and continue to make some mistakes, but it's all about growth and really finding the lessons that needs to be learned in order to get to the next level.
If we love-and-serve an ideal we reach backward in time to its inception and forward to its consummation. To grow is sometimes to hurt; but who would return to smallness?
And yes, Holden would keep those kids from falling off the cliff, but WHO WOULDN'T? Does she think I would just fold my arms or give them a pat on the back before they sailed headfirst to the ground? We are all catchers, and it's sad that she doesn't see it. Instead she sees the PHONINESS, she deplores the world even after I point out that I am in it.
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