I loved what I did. I remember cruel mothers who would pinch their children to make them cry in a scene, but my mother encircled me with affection.
Shirley TempleRead
Biographies of me have usually been compiled from old newspaper clips, untruthful publicity stories, and reminiscences of people who claim to have known me well.
Interpretation
Shirley Temple reflects on how biographies often misrepresent her life through unreliable sources.
In this quote, Shirley Temple critiques the way her life story has been constructed by others, emphasizing that many biographies are based on distorted information from newspapers, misleading anecdotes, and the perceptions of people who may not truly know her. This highlights the broader theme of how personal narratives can be shaped by external biases and the importance of seeking a more accurate and authentic representation of one's life.
In practice
This quote can serve as a reminder at a writing workshop on the importance of authentic storytelling.
I loved what I did. I remember cruel mothers who would pinch their children to make them cry in a scene, but my mother encircled me with affection.
Studio chief Winfield Sheehan wanted me to remain a little girl. If I lost my innocence, he said, it would show in my eyes.
Don't lament so much about how your career is going to turn out. You don't have a career. You have a life. Do the work. Keep the faith. Be true blue. You are a writer because you write. Keep writing and quit your bitching. Your book has a birthday. You don't know what it is yet.
At night, the house thick with sleep, she would peer out her bedroom window at the trees and sky and feel the presence of a mystery. Some possibility that included her--separate from her present life and without its limitations. A secret. Riding in the car with her father, she would look out at other cars full of people she'd never seen, any one of whom she might someday meet and love, and would feel the world holding her making its secret plans.
People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying school masters; the English and the terrible things they did to us for eight hundred long years. Above all -- we were wet.
Life, struggle, even amidst pain and blood and poverty, seemed beautiful.
Thank God I found the GOOD in goodbye
There are few things in life that bring as much joy as the joy that comes from assisting another improve his or her life.
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