A Quote by Burl Ives
I stopped and gazed on the little dull man who was being paid to be a teacher of teachers. I turned and walked to the door, slammed it closed with a bang, and broken glass crashed to the floor. There was uproar behind me in the class, which did not interest me at all.
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The flyscreen door slammed behind me. My feet dragged. I reached each arm into the jacket. Warm sleeves. Crumpled collar. Hands in pockets. Okay. I walked.
The drama teacher that I had in high school, back in Texas, was the only teacher who didn't kick me out of his class. He turned me on to 'The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan.' I had picked up Dylan with 'Bringing It All Back Home,' and he turned me on to the first couple of albums, which I hadn't heard.
His door is closed behind me. It's staying closed. He's letting me go. I think I've made myself very clear, but no ones stepping forward to stop me. A lot of you cared, just not enough. And that...that is what i needed to find out. And I did find out. And I'm sorry.
I took a look around the office. ... I walked out and closed the door behind me. I knew that I would not be back there again." (On leaving the Executive Office Building)
"I hate you." My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me.She really did. "I love you," was all I could say in return. "You're a freak, you know that? Everyone says so. They always have." "I'm trying not to be.” Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.
And then, one acting class turned into two, turned into four, and then turned into, "I love this. I could do this for the rest of my life. But, I don't have a background in acting. I never acted in college, or did anything like that. How can I go about doing this?" That meant going to grad school and getting some training, and I did. I literally walked down the path. It was real fortuitous for me to walk by that school, that one morning.
They're safe,'' he said. "And you're not made of glass". He swept me up in his arms. I laughed. "And I'm not made of glass." He carried me into our room and kicked the door shut behind us.
T.S Elliot was wrong. My world ended with a bang the minute we entered the Compound and the silver door closed behind us. The sound was brutal. Final.
The first class of readers may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand; it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibes everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, and retains only the refuse and dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the slave of Golconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gems.
Put you hand before your eyes and remember, you that have walked, the places from which you have walked away, and the wilderness into which you manfully turned the steps of your abandonment ... It is your business to leave all that you have know altogether behind you, and no man has eyes at the back of his head - go forward.
Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.
9/11 did not really impact me, but I remember sitting in my 6th grade math class. I remember the teachers just being in a panic and turning on our TVs and I remember the impact in the look of just disbelief and sadness and shock that was on my teacher's face.
I do remember once going to Salzburg in Austria. Liverpool were playing a European game there, and they put me in a box behind glass. I hate being behind glass; I always want to feel part of the action.
Where are you going?" I asked, feeling guilty for not being able to hang out with him. "To find a faerie to kill me, of course." He winked at us, then pretended to fall straight through when the faerie door opened. Even Arianna laughed as the door closed behind him.
You left me." Not realizing until I've said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he's not referring to the past. He's prophesying our future.
The door slammed open. Vivenna jumped, putting a hand to her chest. Vasher walked in. 'Start reaching for that sword when you're startled,' he said. 'There's little reason to grab your shirt, unless you're planning to rip it off.
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