A Quote by Valerie Harper

My mother was a Book of the Month Club devotee. I remember she always looked forward to Pearl Buck's books. — © Valerie Harper
My mother was a Book of the Month Club devotee. I remember she always looked forward to Pearl Buck's books.
When my mother read 'The Joy Luck Club', she was always complaining to me how she had to tell her friends that, no, she was not the mother or any of the mothers in the book.
Pearl Buck was my mother's favorite author.
Talk about a woman of a certain age - Pearl Buck was a great prototype of continuing to work. She was in the hospital dying of cancer, and in the next room was her secretary, typing out her next book.
Through the eight books in 'The Treasure Chest' series, readers will meet twins Maisie and Felix and learn the secrets and rules of time travel, where they will encounter some of these famous and forgotten people. In Book 1, Clara Barton, then Alexander Hamilton, Pearl Buck, Harry Houdini, and on and on.
My first vivid memory is...when first I looked into her face and she looked into mine. That I do remember, and that exchanging looks I have carried with me all of my life. We recognized each other. I was her child and she was my mother.
I always loved jokes. It's such a dumb, facile thing to say, but it's true. I remember being a kid and getting those joke books from the Scholastic Book Club and loving comedy from a very young age.
Even if Pearl S. Buck hadn't spent most of her life in China, she'd have every right to write about it.
I remember growing up, having sports to go to, having recess, those were the things I looked forward to. Yes, I'm an athlete, but I had buddies who weren't, and they looked forward to it, too.
I do, in fact, have a book club. I meet with a couple of guys once a month of a lunchtime discussion of some interesting text, usually, but not always, philosophical.
As a kid, there are some things you looked forward to. You looked forward to Charlie Brown during Halloween and you looked forward to Monday Night Football.
I always sent my mother all these huge books I made. When my mother died, I was cleaning her cupboard, and these big books were only 20 pages long. She edited out, maybe burned, every single photograph where I'm naked.
I am simply a 'book drunkard.' Books have the same irresistible temptation for me that liquor has for its devotee. I cannot withstand them.
When I was 4 my mother got divorced and we were very close to each other. I always wanted to be with her. She took me everywhere. When she went for dinner with friends or when they had meetings at the tennis club, I was always there.
I remember running down a road on my way to a nursery of flowers. I remember her smile and her laugh when I was my best self and she looked at me like I could do no wrong and was whole. I remember how she looked at me the same way even when I wasn't. I remember her hand in mine and how that felt, as if something and someone belonged to me.
My mother was so stylish, but she never pushed that on me. She always thought I looked cool.
I remember asking my mother if she believed in reincarnation and she said that that sounded very sensible, and I thought, yes, it does to me too. So I always believed in it. I can't remember when I didn't.
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