Barbara Grizzuti Harrison
Barbara Grizzuti Harrison
Barbara Grizzuti Harrisonwas an American journalist, essayist and memoirist. She is best known for her autobiographical work, particularly her account of growing up as one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and for her travel writing...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth14 September 1934
CountryUnited States of America
unhappiness accountants beggar
Unhappiness makes beggars or accountants of us all.
truth firsts casualties
truth ... is the first casualty of tyranny.
travel borders pulse
One feels a quickening of the pulse when one crosses a border.
travel falling-in-love real
The real reason women fall in love abroad is not that they are free of domestic inhibitions but that they translate their love of stone and place into love of flesh. ... Is this true?
stress trouble crisis
to have a crisis, and act upon it, is one thing. To dwell in perpetual crisis is another.
sports sex water
To surrender one's vulnerable body to water has always seemed to me a limpid act of will that has no coutnerpart or equal, unless it is sex.
sports water care
Nothing is more democratic, less judgmental, than water. Water doesn't care whether flesh is withered or fresh; it caresses aged flesh and firm flesh with equal love.
light silence garments
Silence is the garment of light.
regret home hands
Every house we have lived in, every building to which our hands have lent their work, belongs to us by virtue of love or of regret.
grief belief unhappiness
Great unhappiness is incompatible with the belief that it will ever end.
travel garden yield
I love medieval cities; they do not clamor for attention; they possess their souls - their riches - in quiet; formal, courteous, they reveal themselves slowly, stone by stone, garden by garden; hidden treasures wait calmly to be loved and yield to introspective wandering.
perfect architecture boundaries
I love cloisters, which are the architectural equivalent of a theological concept: perfect freedom within set boundaries.
thinking looks single-women
I don't think I know a single woman who knows what she looks like.
betrayal fall love-is
We are all proprietary toward cities we love. 'Ah, you should have seen her when I loved her!' we say, reciting glories since faded or defiled, trusting her to no one else; that others should know and love her in her present fallen state (for she must fall without our vigilant love) is a species of betrayal.