A Quote by June Jordan

I am a stranger, learning to love the strangers around me — © June Jordan
I am a stranger, learning to love the strangers around me
You are a stranger, I am a stranger, we all remain strangers, and nevertheless we can like or even love each other.
Scripture tells us that we shall not oppress a stranger, for we know the heart of a stranger. We were strangers once, too.
Our bodies aren't strangers,' he said, his voice ragged. 'Our spirits aren't strangers'. He held her face in his hands. 'Tell me what part of me is stranger to you and I'll destroy that part of me.' And she wept to hear his words.
I am learning to see. I don't know why it is, but everything enters me more deeply and doesn't stop where it once used to. I have an interior that I never knew of... What's the use of telling someone that I am changing? If I'm changing, I am no longer who I was; and if I am something else, it's obvious that I have no acquaintances. And I can't possibly write to strangers.
I love your bracelet!’ I said to the brunette next to me, because, while most girls are onto the whole stranger-with-candy thing, the strangers-with-compliments strategy is still remarkably effective.
Comedy is the only profession where love from a stranger is better than love from a family member. You need to perform for strangers to see if you're really funny. If they laugh and cheer, it's the greatest thing in the world.
Never like seein' strangers. Guess it's cause no stranger ever good newsed me.
Love of goodness without love of learning degenerates into simple-mindedness. Love of knowledge without love of learning degenerates into utter lack of principle. Love of faithfulness without love of learning degenerates into injurious disregard of consequences. Love of uprightness without love of learning degenerates into harshness. Love of courage without love of learning degenerates into insubordination. Love of strong character without love of learning degenerates into mere recklessness.
surrounded by strangers who love me (un)strangers made strange by pain
As a child, I heard many warnings from teachers about the perils of talking with strangers. Yet now, fairly late in my life, I can think of not many things better than to talk with strangers. The idea of being a stranger is also very appealing.
All of a sudden I didn't fit in anywhere. Not at school, not at home...and every time I turned around, another person I'd known forever felt like a stranger to me. Even I felt like a stranger to me.
I wish I were less awkward around strangers. I never know what to say when someone asks me who I am and what the hell I'm doing in their house.
Again, as egotistical as I am, as self-centered as I am, and as much as I love strangers idolizing me, I find it very crass to be self-promoter in a way.
I must confess that I am usually drawn to sadness, and loneliness has never been a stranger to me. But love tried to welcome me, but my soul drew back, guilty of lust and sin.
I been with strangers all day and they treated me like family. I come in here to family and you treat me like a stranger.
I am writing for myself and strangers. This is the only way that I can do it. Everybody is a real one to me, everybody is like some one else too to me. No one of them that I know can want to know it and so I write for myself and strangers.
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