A Quote by Maira Kalman

I still do have the little lunch bag that my mother made out of a towel and embroidered with my name on it for when I went to kindergarten. — © Maira Kalman
I still do have the little lunch bag that my mother made out of a towel and embroidered with my name on it for when I went to kindergarten.
Still I sojourn here, alone and palely loitering, though the sedge is withered from the lake and no birds sing. For I sent the bath towel to the wash this morning, and omitted to put out another. I have no towel.
Everyone runs around trying to find a place where they still serve breakfast because eating breakfast, even if it's 5 o'clock in the afternoon, is a sign that the day has just begun and good things can still happen. Having lunch is like throwing in the towel.
I enjoyed playing everywhere, especially my mother's garden and my neighbor's. I loved my kindergarten. We sang songs; we played everywhere and ate lunch. I had a childhood that I would wish for anyone.
In tech-land, no one cares what kind of car you drive, and frankly, they're not going to find out anyway. You're not going to go to lunch together, because you're going to be sitting in your cube with a brown bag eating lunch.
But people that are worried about unborn babies are the same ones that vote against kindergarten programs in Indiana or school lunch funds out of the federal government.
We just found out my little brother has a peanut allergy, which is very serious I know. But still I feel like my parents are totally overreacting - they caught me eating a tiny little bag of airline peanuts and they kicked me out of his funeral.
Maybe I didn't get new skates, but I got used skates. I made it to the national championships in used skates that were custom-made for another girl. I still have those skates. Underneath the arch, there was a name crossed out and my dad had 'Michelle Kwan' written in. Granted, they were a little big, but it worked.
I have a few customers who have two or three hundred bags. When you see a lady carrying a little dog bag or a little cat bag or an egg, it makes you happy.
I feel shabby - because I've made a name, quite a good name, out of photography. And I still find myself asking the same questions: Who am I? What am I supposed to be? What have I done?
Technology has been defined, perhaps a little ungenerously, as "a long Greek name for a bag of tools".
My second choice would've been Carolina. And when I told my mother I was going to Duke and not Carolina, she just cried, and that made my decision process a little harder. But I still went with what felt right, and it ended up working out well for me.
What's more vulnerable than being naked, especially when you're out in the cold on the street? I agreed to it as long as I could pick the towel, and I picked the smallest, most floral towel I could find.
I've never changed my life since I was 4 and went to the YMCA with a gym bag. I still have that philosophy. In fact, I still have that gym bag.
My real last name is Flores, and Milian is actually my mom's maiden name. So it's not made up, which is cool; it runs in the family. And it actually worked out better for my career to have the last name Milian, because Flores kept me in a little box, and no one really associated me with the last name Flores.
My last name is Szekely. Sounds like Saykay. When I was a little kid I had an instructor in camp who called me Shnizneckely. He would make fun of my name and it hurt my feelings because I was a little pussy and I cried. He said, 'Well, how do you say it?' I said, Seekay. So he wrote 'C.K' on my jersey and everything. He made my name 'C.K' and I just stuck with it.
I need to be able to be at a gig and just put my bag on the floor and not worry about it being stood on or getting ruined. You want a bag that can go through anything. And a little bit of softness is always lovely. If I don't have a dog, I can just pet my bag!
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