A Quote by Rick Santelli
I remember I had a professor in college. I wrote a great paper. Could never please this guy. But it made me better.
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I do less of that stuff now because I figured out that when I was writing things I didn't care about, it made me angry and depressed, so I turned my focus to what does make me happy, and also I recognized that one of the things that gives me great happiness is teaching creative writing, and so I could write profiles of professional golfers or I could be a professor. Being a professor made me much happier.
Carter pulled out several lengths of brown twine, a small ebony cat statue, and a thick roll of paper. No, not paper. Papyrus. I remember Dad explaining how the Egyptians made it from a river plant because they never invented paper. The stuff was so thick and rough, it made me wonder if the poor Egyptians had had to use toilet papyrus. If so, no wonder they walked sideways.
I took to writing as my medicine to help me stay afloat in acting career journey. I wrote about me breaking hearts, and my heart being broken. I wrote about my views whether they were liberal or conservative. I wrote about everything. I wrote about my life. When I did not have paper coming in as green backs, I'd use random pieces of paper for stories. It was like, I got no money, but I have paper to write. So I wrote.
I read a comment that made me think I should stop singing for a while. And I didn't want to stop singing, because it was the only thing I loved. At first I thought, "Maybe I'll get better and eventually please the person who wrote about my singing." But then I thought, "I probably will never please this person. I should just do what pleases me."
I remember when I was a freshman in college, I was still somewhat bothered by... worried... about religion. I remember going to this professor of philosophy and telling him that I had lost my faith.
If I wrote at all, I must throw myself headlong into the great political maelstrom, and would of course be swallowed up like a fishing-boat in the great Norway horror which decorated our school geographies; for no woman had ever done such a thing, and I could never again hold up my head under the burden of shame and disgrace which would be heaped upon me. But what matter? I had no children to dishonor; all save one who had ever loved me were dead, and she no longer needed me, and if the Lord wanted some one to throw into that gulf, no one could be better spared than I.
In high school, I had a teacher there who was really great to me and with whom I finally dared to admit I wanted to be a writer myself, and we did a project where I wrote terrible, 17-year-old fiction. But I remember a couple of the stories. I'd love it if I could read with pride something that I wrote that long ago, but it hasn't happened yet.
In college I took a class from a professor who changed my whole life. I can't really remember what his name was, or what the class was, or even which college it was, but I found that if you sit behind a really tall guy and kind of slouch down in your chair you can drink Scotch right from the bottle and not get caught.
It was right after 9/11 and I decided to walk around the grounds of the Pentagon, because I had never been there. Out of nowhere comes this speeding camouflaged golf cart and this guy starts yelling at me, 'What do you think you're doing!' The guy wrote my name down and began to follow me before I got really scared and took off as fast as I could.
When I was at the University of California at Berkeley, I went to some classes that must have had more than four hundred students in them. I almost always sat in the far back of the auditorium so I could read the newspaper. I remember that I stayed late one day to ask the professor a question, and when I got up to him, all I could think to myself was, 'So this is what the professor looks like.
To all the staff members that take care of us every single day, From Donnie Strack, to Joe Sharpe, Tony Katz, Dave Bliss, Josh Longstaff, Will, Wilson, St, Mark, Dwight, I could down the line, All you guys have made me a better player. I wish I had a Sharpie, So I could write all your names on here 'Cause you had a hand on this. You made me believe in myself. You made me a better person, A better player. Your words of encouragement, Your love, Your positivity, Got me through. And I thank you guys.
A philosophy professor at my college, whose baby became enamored of the portrait of David Hume on a Penguin paperback, had the cover laminated in plastic so her daughter could cut her teeth on the great thinker.
My professional apprenticeship at Iowa State College from 1930 to 1943 could not have been better; the Great Depression made it so, and the talented younger economists at Ames during that period made it an exciting and profitable intellectual experience.
Caron, Even though you just got here a few months ago, We've grown so close over these last few weeks And, I can remember, When you first got here, You wrote a piece of paper in my locker... I don't know why I'm crying so much man... You wrote a piece of paper in my locker that said, "KD MVP." And that's after we had lost two or three straight. And I don't really say much in those moments, But I remember that. I go home and I think about that stuff man. When you got people behind you, You can do whatever. And I thank you man, I appreciate you.
I was a theater major, and I remember being in college, and whenever my professor would assign me songs that I hated, I really had a hard time singing them. One time, I even faked sick so I wouldn't have to sing a song.
When you consider all the writers who never even had a machine. Who would have given an eyeball for a good typewriter. Any typewriter. All the ones who wrote on a matchbook covers. Paper bags. Toilet paper. Who had their writing destroyed by their jailers. Who persisted beyond all odds.
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