A Quote by Tamora Pierce
She's all over us like maggots on garbage, just because I interfered with one pickpocket yesterday.
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Would you really dig into yesterday's garbage to make tonight's meal? Do you dig into yesterday's mental garbage to create today's experiences?
The organic gardener does not think of throwing away the garbage. She knows that she needs the garbage. She is capable of transforming the garbage into compost, so that the compost can turn into lettuce, cucumber, radishes, and flowers again...With the energy of mindfulness, you can look into the garbage and say: I am not afraid. I am capable of transforming the garbage back into love.
She hissed, right there behind my ear, and I had the horrible idea she was spitting maggots into my hair. Why maggots were a problem when I was about to be dead, I didn’t know, but the idea completely grossed me out. “In the womb I heard you die, for no one lives when a banshee cries.” I wasn’t just going to die. I was going to be rhymed to death. That simply wasn’t fair.
I really want to be like my mom in some ways, because I already take a lot after her already. I really like the way she treats us and disciplines us, and I think that she's just great because of how she's balanced us and all of that.
Yesterday is not a milestone that has been passed, but a daystone on the beaten track of the years, and irremediably part of us, within us, heavy and dangerous. We are not merely more weary because of yesterday, we are other, no longer what we were before the calamity of yesterday.
There are times in the lives of most of us, when we would have given all the world to be as we were but yesterday, though that yesterday had passed over us unappreciated and unenjoyed.
What's the difference between a pickpocket and a peeping tom? A pickpocket snatches watches.
The difference between a politician and a pickpocket is that a pickpocket doesn't always get indignant when you tell him to keep his hands to himself.
I'd work on Garbage or I'd edit a song or writing here, but I was able to do a lot of things with my family. There are things outside of Garbage, the whole band has come to realize that we need things like that. That's why we took that break. Garbage had swallowed us up and had become a full time obsession for us and we needed to escape that and reclaim our old lives.
You forget how crazy people are in New York, all the people on the sidewalk. When you leave here, everyone's in their car. But I get back here - I just went to throw something in the garbage, and there was a guy in the garbage. And he wasn't looking in it; he is in it, looking out over 9th Ave like a fisherman.
Maybe she thought the garbage and rocks in your head were interesting. But finally, garbage is garbage and rocks are rocks.
I actually quite love following Lisa Rinna on Twitter, because she tweets like I tweet, which is like, 'Just dropped off the kids!' Or, 'Hey, here's a great sale at the grocery store!' It's such real life, and to me she's like a celebrity - she looks like Hollywood to me - that following her makes me feel like, stars are just like us!
She [my mother] struggled, abusing alcohol for quite some time, and so we just kind of drifted apart. I went to college. But I dedicate the book to her because she is the true champion of the family. She kept our family together. She provided us with a roof over our head. She always worked.
It's funny, I don't really feel that nostalgic. I only recently started putting up some photos from some of the sessions I've done over the years and some of the Garbage sessions because my daughter, who's 10-years-old, when she was about 6 or 7 she was more curious about what I do. I have all these platinum records and stuff, they've all just been in boxes in storage for years but I started just digging through those things because I sort of want her to be aware of my past. I never really put the old recordings on and listen to them and go, "Oh that sounds great."
We worked all the time, just worked and then we would be hungry and my mother was clearing up a new ground trying to help feed us for $1.25 a day. She was using an axe, just like a man, and something flew up and hit her in her eye. It eventually caused her to lose both of her eyes and I began to get sicker and sicker of the system there. I used to see my mother wear clothes that would have so many patches on them, they had been done over and over and over again. She would do that but she would try to keep us decent.
There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.
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