A Quote by Juliana Hatfield

At heart I am a librarian, a bird-watcher, a transcendentalist, a gardener, a spinster, a monk. — © Juliana Hatfield
At heart I am a librarian, a bird-watcher, a transcendentalist, a gardener, a spinster, a monk.
I learned my color in Europe. I've always been a colorist, I think. I started when I was very young, being a bird-watcher, fascinated by the bird colors.
I think that's my strength, that I am an amateur gardener who loves gardening. I've read about it, I've written about it, I've done it all my life but at heart, I'm just a passionate amateur gardener.
I have trained my eye over and over ever since I was a kid. I was a bird watcher when I was a little boy. My grandmother gave me a bird book, and I got to like their colors.
My father was an obsessive bird-watcher. The genes of observation passed down.
The librarian must be the librarian militant before he can be the librarian triumphant.
The librarian isn't a clerk who happens to work in a library. A librarian is a data hound, a guide, a sherpa and a teacher. The librarian is the interface between reams of data and the untrained but motivated user.
After all, if spinster chaperons required their own spinster chaperons there simply wouldn't be enough to go around.
Writing is like a bird-watcher watching for birds: the stories are there: you just have to train yourself to look for them.
I live in the country. I'm a bird-watcher, an oyster-raiser. You know, I'll do anything that - raise dogs for the blind as a volunteer.
There is nothing like the first hot days of spring when the gardener stops wondering if it's too soon to plant the dahlias and starts wondering if it's too late. Even the most beautiful weather will not allay the gardener's notion (well-founded actually) that he is somehow too late, too soon, or that he has too much stuff going on or not enough. For the garden is the stage on which the gardener exults and agonizes out every crest and chasm of the heart.
The heart, in its journey to Allah, Majestic is He, is like that of a bird; Love is its head, and fear and hope are its two wings. When the head and two wings are sound, the bird flies gracefully; if the head is severed, the bird dies; if the bird loses one of its wings, it then becomes a target for every hunter or predator.
Becoming a monk was a hard decision. Leaving being a monk was harder, but it's given me so much faith in my ability to transition, and that what I learned as a monk can still serve me.
The conservation movement is a breeding ground of Communists and other subversives. We intend to clean them out, even if it means rounding up every bird watcher in the country.
FIRST WATCHER Why do people die? SECOND WATCHER Perhaps because they don't dream enough.
You must overcome any shyness and have a conversation with the librarian, because he can offer you reliable advice that will save you much time. You must consider that the librarian (if not overworked or neurotic) is happy when he can demonstrate two things: the quality of his memory and erudition and the richness of his library, especially if it is small. The more isolated and disregarded the library, the more the librarian is consumed with sorrow for its underestimation. A person who asks for help makes the librarian happy.
You have to love with an open hand. The heart is like a bird and you have to let this bird fly freely, you cannot possess it.
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