A Quote by Tracy Letts
My last refuge, my books: simple pleasures, like finding wild onions by the side of a road, or requited love.
Related Quotes
I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex.
Simple pleasures are the last healthy refuge in a complex world.
For love that is not requited in equal measure is not love at all; it is not sacred. And holding on to the ideal of such love can keep us from finding the one that is true.
In this job, there are some simple pleasures that really help you cope. One is books, I mean, books are a great escape. Books are a way to get your mind on something else.
Whenever I hear an American say Aussies drive on the 'wrong side of the road,' I just lose it. You ever think about how those people grew up driving on the 'wrong side of the road,' watched a lot of people get hurt on the 'wrong side of the road,' die on the 'wrong side of the road,' while other people cheered from the 'right side of the road'? Australia has a thing called Highway Fights, so it's touchy.
Voting is the next-to-last refuge of the politically impotent. The last refuge, of course, is giving your opinion to a pollster.
I do not like onions. It's so funny because I am probably one of the least picky eaters ever. Pretty much any type of new food, I'll try it, I'll eat it. But onions, and pork. Pork and onions.
Whether or not patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel, national security can be the last refuge of the tyrant.
One of the ways I stuck out was I was a very passionate reader. There was probably a cyclical nature to that; the more I felt like an outcast, the more I sought refuge in books, and the more I sought refuge in books, the more it made me not speak the same language as my peers.
I love cheese, and I love onions, pickles, and crunchy things. That's as far as I go with having things crunchy on my burger. I wouldn't go as far as having carrots on my burger. I'll just keep it simple with pickles and cucumbers and some raw onions.
I think that what I'm attracted to is people who are wild. But the self-destructive side comes out of the wild side. The wildness is very different from me. That's why I think I like it.
I am slowly, painfully discovering that my refuge is not found in my mother, my grandmother, of even the birds of Bear River. My refuge exists in my capacity to love. If I can learn to love death then I can begin to find refuge in change.
I wanted a woman, at first, with a classy side but with a really wild, crazy side. I wanted that because I'm wild and crazy sometimes. But that was then. Now I need less wild and crazy, like, a little bit of that element, but more class. A woman that's responsible and that wants to take care of herself.
You like someone who can't like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot.
Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!
I don't like the grilled onions for some reason. I like regular, crispy, stinky onions.
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