A Quote by Tahereh Mafi

And some days I wonder why I insist on keeping myself alive. — © Tahereh Mafi
And some days I wonder why I insist on keeping myself alive.
I felt him there with me. The real David. My David. David, you are still here. Alive. Alive in me.Alive in the galaxy.Alive in the stars.Alive in the sky.Alive in the sea.Alive in the palm trees.Alive in feathers.Alive in birds.Alive in the mountains.Alive in the coyotes.Alive in books.Alive in sound.Alive in mom.Alive in dad.Alive in Bobby.Alive in me.Alive in soil.Alive in branches.Alive in fossils.Alive in tongues.Alive in eyes.Alive in cries.Alive in bodies.Alive in past, present and future. Alive forever.
I'm a big believer in doing things that make you uncomfortable. So, we live in a world where we want to be as comfortable as we can. And we wonder why we have no growth. We wonder why - when the smallest thing in our life gets difficult - we wonder why we cower and we run away.
I look back upon those days in the Crockett/Turner era of The Four Horsemen and often wonder how I made it out alive. Perhaps my contract had some fine print on it that said, 'Associating with The Four Horsemen can be hazardous to one's health.'
Someone asked us later, "Didn't you wonder why no one came across you sooner?" Did I wonder? When you see your parents zipped up in black body bags on the Jellicoe Road like they're some kind of garbage, don't you know? Wonder dies.
I think, some days, you wonder how you're going to get through, and other days, you find reason to be inspired again.
I don't like swearing on the air. As a matter of fact, I'm not a prude, but I go to the movies and then wonder - I asked myself the same question, and I watch HBO and some of the comedy stuff, and I'm constantly asking myself, why have we gone there? It seems like it's unfortunate. It's so cheap.
All my life, books have felt alive; some more so than people, or rather, some people. Alive - this has to do with me, I know, and not the books - in a way that some people aren't. Alive as teachers, alive as minds, alive as imaginative triggers.
I know that I won't succeed at everything, every day. Some days have to be solely about my daughter. Some days I really try to be a good wife. Other days, I can take a few hours for myself and just do nothing but really focus on work.
There are days when I wonder why my mom couldn't be here to see this.
Sometimes I wonder: What are the children thinking? And sometimes I wonder why the hell I'm not buying a tree like the other neighbors. After all, there is no mention in Christianity of Christmas trees, and even if there were - is there any good reason why I shouldn't be buying some red stockings?
Some may wonder why I chose wildflowers when there are hunger and unemployment and the big bomb in the world. Well, I, for one, think we will survive, and I hope that along the way we can keep alive our experience with the flowering earth. For the bounty of nature is also one of the deep needs of man.
A work of art... is not a living thing... that walks or runs. But the making of a life. That which gives you a reaction. To some it is the wonder of man's fingers. To some it is the wonder of the mind. To some it is the wonder of technique. And to some it is how real it is. To some, how transcendent it is. Like the 5th Symphony, it presents itself with a feeling that you know it, if you have heard it once.
I'm committed to England, simple as that. I don't need to hedge my bets in keeping doors open or keeping things alive.
I tell myself it's a virtue, my failure to sleep in my own house, or at all. I tell myself that I spend more hours than most people aware that I am alive, and that over a lifetime this adds up to more living, more aliveness. I am more alive than the rest of my family. Which is my greatest night fear. Which is why I hunt. I don't ever want to be more alive than they are.
Are there days where I wish I was just at home with my kids? Yeah, most days. But then I look at our accomplishments, and I feel alive; I feel so proud of myself. So it's a very confusing thing to be a working parent.
I forged myself out of a vacuum. I crawl along the highway on hacked off stumps year after year. Some wonder how and why. I never do.
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