Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.
“Everything about autumn is perfect to me. Wooly jumpers, Wellington boots, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and the wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye. She is my true love.”
― Alys Fowler
Central Park in the Fall… Happy Thanksgiving!
The Nile by the Giza Pyramids, Photo by Unknown Egypt 1927
President Bartlet calls the Butterball Hotline.
I snigger every time I even think of the Butterball Hotline
“Stay single. I only say this because when you’re young and in love, everyone thinks they’re the exception…At your age, you can’t imagine it will ever be you, but it will be. Which is bad enough but what’s ever worse is how much you’ll feel like a failure, because when the person who knows you best loses interest, that really takes something out of you—like surgery, almost—and you really start to wonder if you’ll ever be whole again.”
Margaret Scully | Masters of Sex