Let not ambition take possession of you; love the friends of the people, but reserve blind submission for the law and enthusiasm for liberty.
Is it not important to find out how to listen not only to what is being said but to everything – to the noise in the streets, to the chatter of birds, to the noise of the tramcar, to the restless sea, to the voice of your husband, to your wife, to your friends, to the cry of a baby?
Our friends interpret the world and ourselves to us, if we take them tenderly and truly.
I appeal to you, my friends, as mothers: are you willing to enslave your children? You stare back with horror and indignation at such questions. But why, if slavery is not wrong to those upon whom it is imposed?
I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us. Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by.
The most hurtful thing is not what comes from our adversaries, it’s what comes from our friends.
We must wait for the official history of the Chinese Revolution to record in greater detail the invaluable work of our Japanese friends.
I think of some of my friends who have passed to the spirit world but are who here with me when I go to events and when I walk in my own community. My sisters, Ingred, my sister Marsha, and my sister Nielock. All cofounders of the Indigenous Women’s Network with me. All long time women activists in the native community.
I had assumed that I would age with all my friends growing old around me, dying off very gradually one by one. And here was a plague that cut them off so early.
Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.