Read through the most famous quotes by topic #neighbor
President Bush's emergency declaration for the State of Texas is great news for the people and communities that have experienced the devastating wildfires firsthand. Already, communities have rallied to help neighbors in need. ↗
Shortly before school started, I moved into a studio apartment on a quiet street near the bustle of the downtown in one of the most self-conscious bends of the world. The “Gold Coast” was a neighborhood that stretched five blocks along the lake in a sliver of land just south of Lincoln Park and north of River North. The streets were like fine necklaces and strung together were the brownstone houses and tall condominiums and tiny mansions like pearls, and when the day broke and the sun faded away, their lights burned like jewels shining gaudily in the night. The world’s most elegant bazaar, Michigan Avenue, jutted out from its eastern tip near The Drake Hotel and the timeless blue-green waters of Lake Michigan pressed its shores. The fractious make-up of the people that inhabited it, the flat squareness of its parks and the hint of the lake at the ends of its tree-lined streets squeezed together a domesticated cesspool of age and wealth and standing. It was a place one could readily dress up for an expensive dinner at one of the fashionable restaurants or have a drink miles high in the lounge of the looming John Hancock Building and five minutes later be out walking on the beach with pants cuffed and feet in the cool water at the lake’s edge. ↗
#city #contemporary-fiction #contemporary-literature #downtown #lake
And now a POEM... A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by, There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry. It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two. For then you'd see the "fancy sheets", And towels upon the line; You'd see the "company table cloths", With intricate designs. The line announced a baby's birth, From folks who lived inside, As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride! The ages of the children could, So readily be known By watching how the sizes changed, You'd know how much they'd grown! It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung; Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung. It also said, "On vacation now", When lines hung limp and bare. It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare! New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray, As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way. But clotheslines now are of the past, For dryers make work much less. Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody's guess! I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign When neighbors knew each other best... By what hung on the line. ↗
I was also sick of my neighbors, as most Parisians are. I now knew every second of the morning routine of the family upstairs. At 7:00 am alarm goes off, boom, Madame gets out of bed, puts on her deep-sea divers’ boots, and stomps across my ceiling to megaphone the kids awake. The kids drop bags of cannonballs onto the floor, then, apparently dragging several sledgehammers each, stampede into the kitchen. They grab their chunks of baguette and go and sit in front of the TV, which is always showing a cartoon about people who do nothing but scream at each other and explode. Every minute, one of the kids cartwheels (while bouncing cannonballs) back into the kitchen for seconds, then returns (bringing with it a family of excitable kangaroos) to the TV. Meanwhile the toilet is flushed, on average, fifty times per drop of urine expelled. Finally, there is a ten-minute period of intensive yelling, and at 8:15 on the dot they all howl and crash their way out of the apartment to school.” (p.137) ↗
#bed #cannonball #cartoon #cartwheel #ceiling
