A Quote by Pam Brown

Bears being sent through the mail should never be squashed up to make them fit. It gives them indigestion. — © Pam Brown
Bears being sent through the mail should never be squashed up to make them fit. It gives them indigestion.
Things always work out if you don't send that e-mail. That's another great life lesson: I've sent enough e-mails of just "f - k you, f - k you, f - k you" and hit send. I've learned a lot from never being able to take back that I sent that e-mail.
One fella went on the internet and got lots of photos of me in Love Actually, topless and naked and stuff, printed them off, stuck them on A4 paper, laminated them and sent them to me for me to sign. I was away and asked my husband to open all my mail for me, so he got quite a shock. And another man sent me a picture of a face where the nose was a willy.
Being smart in the arts is the same as being smart in engineering is the same as being smart in writing is the same as being smart in anything, really. It's the ability to manipulate all the pieces of the puzzle in your mind, try to fit them together, and when they don't fit quite right... you sand the edges/corners and make them all fit.
I go through fan mail myself, but I think I might get them censored, because I'm always expecting to get the one thing that says, 'I know where you live and I'm going to kill you!' I'm always expecting that to come, but it never seems to arrive. I never get any negative mail, so someone must be censoring them.
God tries his votaries through and through but never beyond endurance. He gives them strength enough to go through the ordeal he prescribes for them.
I was so tiny when my parents split up that I can't remember them ever being together. That was never an issue, as I guess I never went through the trauma of them splitting up.
If to take up books were to take them in, and if to see them were to consider them, and to run through them were to grasp them, I should be wrong to make myself out quite as ignorant as I say I am.
I wasn't sent here to find angels! I wasn't sent here to dream of them. I wasn't sent here to hear them sing! I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry.
You should never value people according to the size of their bank balances. Being poor does not make them bad and being rich does not make them good
I wrote short stories for seven years and used to mail them out. You couldn't send them by e-mail. I called them manila boomerangs. I'd seal the self-addressed stamped envelope inside an envelope and I'd mail it off, and it would come back six weeks later with a rejection letter in it.
I was writing everything. I grew up in Albany, New York, and I was never any farther west than Syracuse, and I wrote Westerns. I wrote tiny little slices of life, sent them off to The Sewanee Review, and they always sent them back. For the first 10 years I was published, I'd say, "I'm a writer disguised as a mystery writer." But then I look back, and well, maybe I'm a mystery writer. You tend to go where you're liked, so when the mysteries were being published, I did more of them.
I never let anyone lose their self-respect and make them wait in my office, or hurt them with my words, thoughts or actions. I give my e-mail address to anyone who seeks me out. I ask them to send me their work, and if I like it, I give them an opportunity.
I remember hearing that the spirit was always next to you, so I would always make room in my bed for the spirit ... I'd make room for the teddy bears, Jesus and me. And then I'd wake up in the morning, and I'd squashed 'em all.
To every bushel of the powdered cement add one bushel of sand, mix them together and pass them through a sieve, then add a sufficient quantity of water to make it (by well mixing and working) about the consistency of a soft putty. It is then fit to use but should not be kept more than six or eight hours and should be thoroughly worked just before it is used.
Early in my career when we went to golf tournaments and charity dinners I noticed businessmen and executives would give the players their cards. Well, they're giving you their cards for a reason. I said to my wife, 'All the guys get these cards and then when they get to the parking lot they rip them up or throw them away. It's really weird.' My wife .. said maybe you should just sign a picture and mail it to them. You know, 'Great playing golf with you,' or whatever. So, I did and lo and behold some of those guys I sent pictures to way back then are now CEOs at big companies.
I sent one e-mail in my life. I sent it to Jeff Raikes at Microsoft, and it ended up in court in Minneapolis, so I am one for one.
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