tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88779833277368675202024-03-14T15:10:27.415-04:00Kurious K's KwotesUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3067125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-8464095380911975532016-01-31T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-31T06:00:15.695-05:00Sorry, But I Gotta Fly!If you came for a Sunday Kat Kwote, you're out of luck. It struck me, the other day that now is the time to end KK's Kwotes. I don't know if it has value worth my spending time each day putting a post together. If there is a great hue and cry, I may reconsider, but for now, this is it--the 3,066th quote (in reality, less, because I ended up repeating a few, and, some were videos...)<br />
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<big><big>I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings.</big></big><br />
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<big><center><i>~ Gustave Flaubert ~</i></center></big><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-67191900898902498962016-01-30T06:00:00.001-05:002016-01-30T06:00:00.759-05:00The Lowest Part<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDI2lkTJsDt2NY-F1KjoXFpA8rUqW10w10MLhwWyXOkRoRJd9D8as3OvFfBbo9aVIpIeBUU_XEem0JfXHc_qbrLqiBcn7UWMymEmSwnFIivtWxQQ9ldotbrGXQtsB1x9v1ZfYE33YgrOk/s1600/lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDI2lkTJsDt2NY-F1KjoXFpA8rUqW10w10MLhwWyXOkRoRJd9D8as3OvFfBbo9aVIpIeBUU_XEem0JfXHc_qbrLqiBcn7UWMymEmSwnFIivtWxQQ9ldotbrGXQtsB1x9v1ZfYE33YgrOk/s320/lucy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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It interests me how we find ways to feel superior to another person, another group of people. It happens everywhere, and all the time. Whatever we call it. It think it's the lowest part of who we are, this need to find someone else to put down.<br />
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<center>~ Elizabeth Strout from <i>My Name Is Lucy Barton</i> ~</center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-33739464526939690222016-01-29T00:00:00.000-05:002016-01-29T00:00:22.120-05:00Poetry Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DZGOwViCCPppJWo8VjbdFd4MwuCIDX9jB5vNeHMA2qmPZiituxSx6YrY2JpkAUKjkk21L29QAlLGP436uQqLbicFhyphenhyphenM6khRpW1KbXPB7HL-Rvyi2-jB3u0JpmyDE9GaFWds5CG38tv4/s1600/natasha-trethewey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DZGOwViCCPppJWo8VjbdFd4MwuCIDX9jB5vNeHMA2qmPZiituxSx6YrY2JpkAUKjkk21L29QAlLGP436uQqLbicFhyphenhyphenM6khRpW1KbXPB7HL-Rvyi2-jB3u0JpmyDE9GaFWds5CG38tv4/s200/natasha-trethewey.jpg" /></a></div><br />
...I didn't think I could understand poetry; I didn't think that it had any relevance to my life, the feelings that I endured on a day-to-day basis, until I was introduced to the right poem.<br />
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<center><i>~ Natasha Trethewey ~</i></center><br />
<small>Photo by Jeff Etheridge, courtesy <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/natasha-trethewey" target="_blank">The Poetry Foundation</a>.</small>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-42624881775116744092016-01-28T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-28T06:00:00.240-05:00Influenza<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIajofcV7wp4qtV6Eu17z0KxP16v0Rqz3ZKlmTBTy4NxuDYfo3v5_A8DA6LzNXdsRLVYcZjCXOPXOSDzk9qqp2Wl2LarNo8u6yCCl3_S2va1ArYvt7tvZ514HA-JOalaYYT2RdsBSpbg/s1600/air-travel.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIajofcV7wp4qtV6Eu17z0KxP16v0Rqz3ZKlmTBTy4NxuDYfo3v5_A8DA6LzNXdsRLVYcZjCXOPXOSDzk9qqp2Wl2LarNo8u6yCCl3_S2va1ArYvt7tvZ514HA-JOalaYYT2RdsBSpbg/s100/air-travel.png" /></a></div><br />
Influenza pandemics must be taken seriously, precisely because of their capacity to spread rapidly to every country in the world.<br />
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<center><i>~ Margaret Chan ~</i></center><br />
<small>Graphic courtesy <a href="https://openclipart.org/detail/202320/air-travel-icon" target="_blank">openclipart</a>.</small>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-5076805309776278272016-01-27T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-27T06:00:21.115-05:00Often Is the Key!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju915bSJCgN0ruOQxe61xnhe8R6ei88QGP1ihOnM-PTkXr3uAbE5hXX-vIEOThayspTn48QEiOVDG8hZ5hhbHZ1qR9EecC0B6noerdyAFTboqyLbkpyFXlF4Gjx8Hv2VM0mWdVjBmgcvc/s1600/Little-Miss-Muffet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju915bSJCgN0ruOQxe61xnhe8R6ei88QGP1ihOnM-PTkXr3uAbE5hXX-vIEOThayspTn48QEiOVDG8hZ5hhbHZ1qR9EecC0B6noerdyAFTboqyLbkpyFXlF4Gjx8Hv2VM0mWdVjBmgcvc/s320/Little-Miss-Muffet.png" /></a></div><br />
...a new brain scan study explains that reading to a child early and often activates the part of the brain that allows them to understand the meaning of language.<br />
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<center><i>~ <a href="http://time.com/3836428/reading-to-children-brain/" target="_blank">Justin Worland</a> ~</i></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-44939375941401813962016-01-26T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-26T06:00:10.061-05:00Good Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdqdanrAycaXPVjNcPNi8XoiTR_59M9APnez0C_DzJljhv7ixsXeCE3VSQFH8jDTZzfLP0BisBAfpDKrQaFvFHquUdUwqRRSpRb7kyvEPzHzpNDbsJ4oJkCaSuYDcvgGIPyOu3eHHkkA/s1600/george+foreman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdqdanrAycaXPVjNcPNi8XoiTR_59M9APnez0C_DzJljhv7ixsXeCE3VSQFH8jDTZzfLP0BisBAfpDKrQaFvFHquUdUwqRRSpRb7kyvEPzHzpNDbsJ4oJkCaSuYDcvgGIPyOu3eHHkkA/s200/george+foreman.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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...learning to enjoy today has two benefits: it gives me happiness right now, and it becomes a good memory later.<br />
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<center><i>~ George Foreman ~</i></center><br />
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<small>Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/eschipul/3893854893/" target="_blank">Ed Schipul</a>.</small> <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-67127403366566240242016-01-25T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-25T06:00:17.191-05:00ActingYou can't just tell actors, especially young ones, to "act happy" and expect them to do it. They must in some essential way be happy.<br />
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<center><i>~ Roger Ebert ~</i></center><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-87511080476834615022016-01-24T06:00:00.001-05:002016-01-24T06:00:16.179-05:00Sunday's Kat Kwote<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiF4l14HGFMpZfwmcixxQSdE_2rk1Rr6sZNs4vMlYTG0kaLFwEOvvE17qo_2akM7uy2Qk-EGpefE09gtFZiOqkrUdKjG1SjjkUx307Ed0w3M7khdLdXkQgPJ43vjDwb6t8UDN9nyBfAEY/s1600/pussycat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiF4l14HGFMpZfwmcixxQSdE_2rk1Rr6sZNs4vMlYTG0kaLFwEOvvE17qo_2akM7uy2Qk-EGpefE09gtFZiOqkrUdKjG1SjjkUx307Ed0w3M7khdLdXkQgPJ43vjDwb6t8UDN9nyBfAEY/s540/pussycat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<small>From <i><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/25432/25432-h/25432-h.htm" target="_blank">The Baby's Bouquet</a></i>, illustrated by Walter Crane.</small>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-72959374453581203012016-01-23T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-23T06:00:11.858-05:00Goldfish?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rj6kBl1OuN8QvZKeDEqxIhsLrKcLb5cEHDTpbV7k4r8VQSewnSlW9IWD8wjBopMLjvv1LulHScZeU4a5l_0f7iY1t0cBqq1wOwErdSTX4iGY1LtlXYr7fr4RsS2gFyGFhA_M2Lqf7ZQ/s1600/goldfish.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rj6kBl1OuN8QvZKeDEqxIhsLrKcLb5cEHDTpbV7k4r8VQSewnSlW9IWD8wjBopMLjvv1LulHScZeU4a5l_0f7iY1t0cBqq1wOwErdSTX4iGY1LtlXYr7fr4RsS2gFyGFhA_M2Lqf7ZQ/s320/goldfish.png" /></a></div><br />
A survey of Canadian media consumption by Microsoft concluded that the average attention span had fallen to eight seconds, down from 12 in the year 2000. We now have a shorter attention span than goldfish, the study found.<br />
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<center><i>~ <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/22/opinion/the-eight-second-attention-span.html" target="_blank">Timothy Egan</a> ~</i></center><br />
<small>Image courtesy <a href="https://openclipart.org/detail/180973/goldfish-auksina-a%C2%BEuvela" target="_blank">openclipart</a>.</small>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-74390948425498540642016-01-22T00:00:00.000-05:002016-01-22T00:00:18.712-05:00Poetry Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVX-JRFNJwkFm97PWuQD0I2lSoqfPo3BQoPj7QA3G6NTvTrWjrnwtShEezPeAumnMxr3hnQpZl8sNPreiNhRoBKHxCN1ePU-_T7F76mXExq8b3nwTcbV7-WzSsfIGFwKa881j6wRPdlY/s1600/girl-writing.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVX-JRFNJwkFm97PWuQD0I2lSoqfPo3BQoPj7QA3G6NTvTrWjrnwtShEezPeAumnMxr3hnQpZl8sNPreiNhRoBKHxCN1ePU-_T7F76mXExq8b3nwTcbV7-WzSsfIGFwKa881j6wRPdlY/s280/girl-writing.gif" /></a></div><br />
Poems <i>have</i> to be based in autobiography; how else should they come about? But if they are to be of any use, they must end by being about everybody.<br />
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<center><i>~ Richard Wilbur ~</i></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-85911411444478635642016-01-21T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-21T06:00:13.402-05:00Snow!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12bskL2B6J7viQcrhXOc5u6vsF9-lCtnnH0hGo0OwQJVIrK1YfxVGWojgxnsSaKOBcG3CHwh0xihW9CC3O8GFYyVhfdAczXhbvEi0eDNJ8XMm5BPpSRs0RDx5IvrY87UnSZUtVGToIyI/s1600/snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12bskL2B6J7viQcrhXOc5u6vsF9-lCtnnH0hGo0OwQJVIrK1YfxVGWojgxnsSaKOBcG3CHwh0xihW9CC3O8GFYyVhfdAczXhbvEi0eDNJ8XMm5BPpSRs0RDx5IvrY87UnSZUtVGToIyI/s320/snow.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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A snow day literally and figuratively falls from the sky, unbidden, and seems like a thing of wonder.<br />
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<center><i>~ Susan Orlean ~</i></center><br />
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<small>Woodcut print by Hiroshige, courtesy <a href="http://www.loc.gov/item/2008660651/" target="_blank">Library of Congress</a>.</small><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-25679557301434175292016-01-20T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-20T06:00:04.056-05:00The Spirit of SlaveryThe spirit of slavery so strongly existed that letters could not reach her; they were all destroyed. My parents had never learned the rescuing scheme of the underground railroad which had borne so many thousands to the standard of freedom and victories. They knew no other resource than to depend upon their own chance in running away and secreting themselves. If caught they were in a worse condition than before.<br />
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<center><i>~ <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17827/17827-h/17827-h.htm" target="_blank">Mattie J. Johnson as told to L. S. Thompson</a> ~</i></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-1034764581034980912016-01-19T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-19T13:38:21.887-05:00A Whole Race of Politicians? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7c6kEOmkOextwUDDMxYTufT7AgujaOSPd3H-mRgG5-0g3kKU814jYKbEpxk4Db3D_NCJsk4xm25OtcbZ76su4_ayH8OwGupHWB7sm29iI8FBdx-f6v8ZJnYc-oh1Lhx7ABcvCNc7rg/s1600/Gulliverstravels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7c6kEOmkOextwUDDMxYTufT7AgujaOSPd3H-mRgG5-0g3kKU814jYKbEpxk4Db3D_NCJsk4xm25OtcbZ76su4_ayH8OwGupHWB7sm29iI8FBdx-f6v8ZJnYc-oh1Lhx7ABcvCNc7rg/s320/Gulliverstravels.jpg" /></a></div><br />
And he gave it for his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.<br />
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<center><i>~ Jonathan Swift ~</i></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-90068129311941563242016-01-18T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-18T06:00:11.464-05:00Remembering Dr. Martin Luther KingI refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the "isness" of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal "oughtness" that forever confronts him. I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life, unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1964/king-acceptance_en.html" target="_blank">~ Martin Luther King, Jr. ~</a></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-7515743538503685082016-01-17T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-17T06:00:01.392-05:00Sunday's Kat Kwote<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIYPAo2i8wZaltz1svq08i2juIraLWqftNSSVjvfaIjpbAwtN49gsDxlEkcBOT9AkErZHjr_NDP4Uh6c1fiGXtf0sDHpdWXiVmBlo1kjeyL1WbRa9w6GsTsgyT79paigAbM6Tdyp3M3U/s1600/cat+and+mice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIYPAo2i8wZaltz1svq08i2juIraLWqftNSSVjvfaIjpbAwtN49gsDxlEkcBOT9AkErZHjr_NDP4Uh6c1fiGXtf0sDHpdWXiVmBlo1kjeyL1WbRa9w6GsTsgyT79paigAbM6Tdyp3M3U/s420/cat+and+mice.jpg" /></a></div><blockquote>For cats that have good constitutions<br />
Have eight more lives than a man;<br />
Which proves we are better than humans<br />
To my mind, if anything can.<br />
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<center><i>~ C. P. Cranch </i>~</center></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-76600762649485201552016-01-16T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-16T06:00:08.346-05:00Every Reader<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkLk8QMBThyA64im8uMrz2DSrOV6-AvIo_jyTHicp7Ds0y4KkAVUVCjBgJrOQZfru0D5YuMFHCBfuCPYTdL0tZXhV-e6fcJooQ1qpa77FXXuuXWmkYF9Xbu3PwzcNGEl_lnwZ5XssdVg/s1600/myname.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkLk8QMBThyA64im8uMrz2DSrOV6-AvIo_jyTHicp7Ds0y4KkAVUVCjBgJrOQZfru0D5YuMFHCBfuCPYTdL0tZXhV-e6fcJooQ1qpa77FXXuuXWmkYF9Xbu3PwzcNGEl_lnwZ5XssdVg/s200/myname.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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It came to me recently that I always write for a reader who "needs" the book at whatever time in their life it arrives. And readers will always—and should—bring their own story to the story they are reading, and so it becomes, essentially, a different book for every reader.<br />
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<center><i>~ Elizabeth Strout ~</i></center><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-35631194311727419822016-01-15T05:54:00.000-05:002016-01-15T07:55:18.061-05:00Poetry Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gNiOx2OglJNvgNX_XEhpC2IYfhPPvNgHbu7taHsvvJ8r_EPtMvnz9-E3f_l50HO23i1s42gItInUaV1VoK76_fYiCSubj5Hp_cdklcDgGnhMnIcZSzHqocWGGyc_0MpsLHH8d7HjyMY/s1600/bike.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gNiOx2OglJNvgNX_XEhpC2IYfhPPvNgHbu7taHsvvJ8r_EPtMvnz9-E3f_l50HO23i1s42gItInUaV1VoK76_fYiCSubj5Hp_cdklcDgGnhMnIcZSzHqocWGGyc_0MpsLHH8d7HjyMY/s320/bike.gif" /></a></div><br />
I got a beautiful new bike and am looking forward to riding it more. I also want to do more woolgathering—idle rumination, daydreaming—which is absolutely essential for poetry, and which I can do on the bicycle.<br />
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<center><i>~ <a href="http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/blogs/artsdesk/books/2010/05/19/the-exit-interview-poet-laureate-kay-ryan/" target="_blank">Kay Ryan</a> ~</i></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-73502444376611569452016-01-14T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-14T06:00:08.078-05:00Good Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN6zeBT8DRtlBR3aHstosId5WiFtAde_DVsCKuW5-uxPYsOTqX9YKM5Zrdwr5sQtBaujcSIorX6e9oA119CFfpO9Zg6kN8Atr-E5hXxhqYTnwnxc1Yr_7UGVyoiuiJTjWWC2AdtSohq0/s1600/nljfk2007-d25-53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN6zeBT8DRtlBR3aHstosId5WiFtAde_DVsCKuW5-uxPYsOTqX9YKM5Zrdwr5sQtBaujcSIorX6e9oA119CFfpO9Zg6kN8Atr-E5hXxhqYTnwnxc1Yr_7UGVyoiuiJTjWWC2AdtSohq0/s320/nljfk2007-d25-53.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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All good books have one thing in common--they are truer than if they had really happened.<br />
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<center><i>~ Ernest Hemingway ~</i></center><br />
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<small>Photo by Susan Wrynn. <a href="http://www.jfklibrary.org/Asset-Viewer/hwt0dFVqiUCD_h9sgMvQog.aspx" target="_blank">John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum</a>, Boston.</small><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-47136866582020518792016-01-13T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-13T06:00:12.991-05:00No Longer Helpless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JTBstfxlh_3ZY3LtU2gv9e0p7m_Te9tuenyBpsAPkq9-3BbRdVyRZwuPcmO9M3i81uS43flv6NxIL_fTCwIFGhj0OXJdo4ZyACrOPKTUCuXPzulcL4yNCSGLbuKz6-LYLukEsHcHgbU/s1600/comet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JTBstfxlh_3ZY3LtU2gv9e0p7m_Te9tuenyBpsAPkq9-3BbRdVyRZwuPcmO9M3i81uS43flv6NxIL_fTCwIFGhj0OXJdo4ZyACrOPKTUCuXPzulcL4yNCSGLbuKz6-LYLukEsHcHgbU/s400/comet.jpg" /></a></div><br />
For most of the history of our species we were helpless to understand how nature works. We took every storm, drought, illness and comet personally. We created myths and spirits in an attempt to explain the patterns of nature.<br />
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<center><i>~ Ann Druyan ~</i></center><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-36471136164005923162016-01-12T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-12T06:00:11.645-05:00Remembering Bowie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mctCFRd16GwetfwqCe9iT44ggqZdMjYTFjgTfwqwV6JE8x39CgfVxxlwr4_Bpx1JOXA6gHt2L1dAl_R6jPmFZVZksCmDcGt531jeiAiHtIH3_cj9krVFx3JRolYPg2BSUipIU0WQsZ0/s1600/stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mctCFRd16GwetfwqCe9iT44ggqZdMjYTFjgTfwqwV6JE8x39CgfVxxlwr4_Bpx1JOXA6gHt2L1dAl_R6jPmFZVZksCmDcGt531jeiAiHtIH3_cj9krVFx3JRolYPg2BSUipIU0WQsZ0/s540/stars.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-80887989915988960902016-01-11T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-11T06:00:13.047-05:00Mrs. Hughes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCw3wMaMTTH2Cq0NR5-0AwEjyKaONWyyQNOoPsQryiT4T5_lyBEQEL5xjJRB1PxuLO8ozRyvR_lWxJJ8fw0T7PN3GNVIP9r8kKhKVN_OdtRNIjnt3XX4o2zq8MLu43lx3KBNUJg-xxu8/s1600/mrs.hughes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCw3wMaMTTH2Cq0NR5-0AwEjyKaONWyyQNOoPsQryiT4T5_lyBEQEL5xjJRB1PxuLO8ozRyvR_lWxJJ8fw0T7PN3GNVIP9r8kKhKVN_OdtRNIjnt3XX4o2zq8MLu43lx3KBNUJg-xxu8/s400/mrs.hughes.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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[Note: I forgot to post Sunday's Kat Kwote! I'll save it for next week. --KK]Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-89801668638518672222016-01-09T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-16T17:45:05.803-05:00Unbelieveable...Perhaps more telling is the total cost of firearm injury--$235 billion a year.<br />
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<center><i>~ Ted Miller ~</i></center><br />
<iframe src="http://www.npr.org/player/embed/459673828/459789027" width="100%" height="290" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" title="NPR embedded audio player"></iframe><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-50886399466472843832016-01-08T00:00:00.000-05:002017-11-14T09:15:38.948-05:00Poetry Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8XuNywlAkkyZsgy7r30YWYF7HY6K93PEnQTo9NI0Lv5pXr1yDGpBOo1nDt-ZqB2eYH6ttnpxaeGxTDdInvoBTRCIbILeyYmH1Ludj_aqND8HNmc6JsPU-FSqqK6XRPuCv8CGtOh2CZr0/s1600/ROSEN_COLOUR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8XuNywlAkkyZsgy7r30YWYF7HY6K93PEnQTo9NI0Lv5pXr1yDGpBOo1nDt-ZqB2eYH6ttnpxaeGxTDdInvoBTRCIbILeyYmH1Ludj_aqND8HNmc6JsPU-FSqqK6XRPuCv8CGtOh2CZr0/s320/ROSEN_COLOUR.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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The best thing you can do with poetry is just enjoy reading it together with the children. That has to be the starting point--not all that nonsense about quizzing them about adjectives and metaphors. So first thing: set up situations in which it feels good to read aloud together, read in groups, read silently.<br />
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<center><i>~ Michael Rosen ~</i></center><br />
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<small>Photo courtesy <a href="http://www.walker.co.uk/contributors/Michael-Rosen-1502.aspx" target="_blank">Walker Books</a>.</small>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-69372585121393768602016-01-07T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-07T06:00:19.301-05:00I Love Reading!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyZMs6sOtEXNbcdjktL51qzaaSJ3ZCqabxokCYguhkw2x8PpFVgGpwr3A40dl0cl6rbP5aB23AbKIEyVeCuBi49lw5vQX6GmjzPpcYTDci84uKiP5qul1HEuDzL2NzKDSbGn51V46Imc/s1600/reading.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyZMs6sOtEXNbcdjktL51qzaaSJ3ZCqabxokCYguhkw2x8PpFVgGpwr3A40dl0cl6rbP5aB23AbKIEyVeCuBi49lw5vQX6GmjzPpcYTDci84uKiP5qul1HEuDzL2NzKDSbGn51V46Imc/s320/reading.tif" /></a></div><br />
<center>We shouldn't teach great books; we should teach a love of reading.<br />
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<i>~ B. F. Skinner ~</i></center><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877983327736867520.post-10398882906860044742016-01-06T06:00:00.000-05:002016-01-06T06:00:25.110-05:00The Garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjNo0BK_i0KZ1Tdz-8-uj3vhfzeJP2btm63p9UY9IuaD3K2RwCF0ofRDI8BI9d-8LSb47-x1NsvxhwO27Nw2iiqe913MjnnDBeP5OM6RrSwk-3FaAfhcxRabxZY1J5A6aMVAvQjJNBVw/s1600/garden.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjNo0BK_i0KZ1Tdz-8-uj3vhfzeJP2btm63p9UY9IuaD3K2RwCF0ofRDI8BI9d-8LSb47-x1NsvxhwO27Nw2iiqe913MjnnDBeP5OM6RrSwk-3FaAfhcxRabxZY1J5A6aMVAvQjJNBVw/s320/garden.gif" /></a></div><br />
The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway.<br />
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<center><i>~ Michael Pollan ~</i></center><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0