Will Shields
Will Shields
Will Herthie Shieldsis a former college and professional American football player who was an offensive guard in the National Football Leaguefor fourteen seasons. He played college football for the University of Nebraska, earning consensus All-American honors and winning the Outland Trophy. He played his entire professional career for the NFL's Kansas City Chiefs, and never missed a game in fourteen seasons...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAthlete
Date of Birth15 September 1971
CountryUnited States of America
And yet, within her anxiety, secured there like a gemstone, she carries the cool and curious power of occasionally being able to see the world vividly. Clarity bursts upon her a spray of little stars. She understands this, and thinks of it as one of the tricks of consciousness; there is something almost luxurious about it.. The narrative maze opens and permits her to pass through. She may be crowded out of her own life - she knows this for a fact and has always know it - but she possesses, as a compensatory gift, the startling ability to draft alternative versions.
It's the arrangement of events which makes the stories. It's throwing away, compressing, underlining. Hindsight can give structure to anything, but you have to be able to see it. Breathing, waking and sleeping: our lives are steamed and shaped into stories. Knowing that is what keeps me from going insane, and though I don't like to admit it, sometimes it's the only thing.
I couldn't have been a novelist without being a mother. It gives you a unique witness point of the growth of a personality. It was a kind of biological component for me that had to come first. My children gave this other window on the world.
The recounting of a life is a cheat...even our own stories are obscenely distorted...
It occurs to her that she should record this flash of insight in her journal - otherwise she is sure to forget, for she is someone who is always learning and forgetting and obliged to learn again...
Eventually, everything gets stuck between a pair of parentheses or buried in the bottom of a trunk.
A woman's life isn't worth a plateful of cabbage if she hasn't felt life stir under her heart. Taking a little one to nurse, watching him grow to manhood, that's what love is.
Why should men be allowed to strut under the privilege of their life adventures, wearing them like a breast full of medals, while women went all gray and silent beneath the weight of theirs?
The larger loneliness of our lives evolves from our unwillingness to spend ourselves, stir ourselves. We are always damping down our inner weather, permitting ourselves the comforts of postponement, of rehearsals
Anyone's childhood can be an act of disablement if rehearsed and replayed and squinted at in a certain light. . .
Happiness is the lucky pane of glass you carry in your head. It takes all your cunning just to hang on to it, and once it's smashed you have to move into a different sort of life.
Our friendship is made up of these brief frenzied exchanges, but the quality of our conversation, for all its feverish outpouring, is genuine.
Here's to another year and let's hope it's above ground.
It's hard work being a person, you have to do it every single day.