Hope is a renewable option: If you run out of it at the end of the day, you get to start over in the morning.— Barbara Kingsolver
The most sensational Barbara Kingsolver quotes that are proven to give you inner joy
Few people know so clearly what they want.
Most people can't even think what to hope for when they throw a penny in a fountain.
If you want sweet dreams, you've got to live a sweet life.
The changes we dread most may contain our salvation.
Households that have lost the soul of cooking from their routines may not know what they are missing: the song of a stir-fry sizzle, the small talk of clinking measuring spoons, the yeasty scent of rising dough, the painting of flavors onto a pizza before it slides into the oven.
We came from Bethlehem, Georgia bearing Betty Crocker cake mixes into the jungle.
Finally, cooking is good citizenship.
It's the only way to get serious about putting locally raised foods into your diet, which keeps farmlands healthy and grocery money in the neighborhood.
Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say.
The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for.
And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.
Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer.
It's what you do that makes your soul.
Pain reaches the heart with electrical speed, but truth moves to the heart as slowly as a glacier.
Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.
It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.
Thanks for this day, for all birds safe in their nests, for whatever this is, for life.
Recall that whatever lofty things you might accomplish today, you will do them only because you first ate something that grew out of the dirt.
That was when we smelled the rain. It was so strong it seemed like more than just a smell. When we stretched out our hands we could practically feel it rising up from the ground. I don’t know how a person could ever describe that scent.
From the fallen tree everybody makes firewood.
It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't.
The truth needs so little rehearsal.
Will you explain to me why people encourage delusional behaviour in children, and medicate it in adults?
Friends, there is nothing like your own family to make you appreciate strangers!
What keeps you going isn't some fine destination but just the road you're on, and the fact that you know how to drive.
The way I see it, a person isn't nothing more than a scarecrow.
.. The only difference between one that stands up good and one that blows over is what kind of a stick they're stuck up there on.
Plants do everything animals do, but slowly.
They migrate, communicate, deceive, stalk their food and, with an ostentation of styles and perfumes to put the animal kingdom to shame, they make love. It's just that catching them in flagrante delicto might require time-lapse photography.
Respecting the dignity of a spectacular food means enjoying it at its best.
Europeans celebrate the short season of abundant asparagus as a form of holiday. In the Netherlands the first cutting coincides with Father's Day, on which restaurants may feature all-asparagus menus and hand out neckties decorated with asparagus spears.
Many of us who aren't farmers or gardeners still have some element of farm nostalgia in our family past, real or imagined: a secret longing for some connection to a life where a rooster crows in the yard.
Honk if you love Jesus, text while driving if you want to meet up.
Root out all the "to be" verbs in your prose and bludgeon them until dead.
No "It was" or "they are" or "I am." Don't let it be, make it happen.
We're animals. We're born like every other mammal and we live our whole lives around disguised animal thoughts.
Wars and elections are both too big and too small to matter in the long run.
The daily work - that goes on, it adds up.
A writer's occupational hazard: I think of eavesdropping as minding my business.
Cooking is 80 percent confidence, a skill best acquired starting from when the apron strings wrap around you twice.
One of the very first things I figured out about life.
..is that it's better to be a hopeful person than a cynical, grumpy one, because you have to live in the same world either way, and if you're hopeful, you have more fun.
Insomnia’s different,” I said. It was hard to explain this to people. “You know the light that comes on when you open the refrigerator door? Just imagine it stays on all the time, even after you close the door. That’s what it’s like in my head. The light stays on.
Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
What keeps you going isn't some fine destination but just the road you're on, and the fact that you know how to drive. You keep your eyes open, you see this damned-to-hell world you got born into, and you ask yourself, 'What life can I live that will let me breathe in & out and love somebody or something and not run off screaming into the woods?
When moral superiority combines with billowing ignorance, they fill up a hot-air balloon that's awfully hard not to poke.
A choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. I am the forest's conscience, but remember, the forest eats itself and lives forever.
A flower is a plant's way of making love.
I'm widest awake as a writer doing something new, engaged in a process I'm not sure I can finish, generating at the edge of my powers. Some people bungee jump; I write.
I know I have to write about the things that keep me awake at night.
There is no point treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad, saying, 'There now, hang on, you'll get over it.' Sadness is more or less like a head cold- with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
God is frightful, God is great--you pick.
I choose this: God is in the details, the completely unnecessary miracles sometimes tossed up as stars to guide us. They are the promise of good fortune in a cloudless day, and the animals in the clouds; look hard enough, and you'll see them. Don't ask if they're real.
At some point in my life I'd honestly hoped love would rescue me from the cold, drafty castle I lived in. But at another point, much earlier I think, I'd quietly begun to hope for nothing at all in the way of love, so as not to be disappointed. It works. It gets to be a habit.
But kids don't stay with you if you do it right.
It's the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won't be needed in the long run.
I look at my four boys, who are the colors of silt, loam, dust, and clay, an infinite palette for children of their own, and I understand that time erases whiteness altogether.
The friend who holds your hand and says the wrong thing is made of dearer stuff than the one who stays away.
It's frightening when things you love appear suddenly changed from what you have always known.
I've about decided that's the main thing that separates happy people from the other people: the feeling that you're a practical item, with a use, like a sweater or a socket wrench.
(on asparagus) Europeans of the Renaissance swore by it as an aphrodisiac, and the church banned it from nunneries.