Elizabeth Smart
Elizabeth Smart
Elizabeth Ann Smart-Gilmouris an American activist and contributor for ABC News. She first gained national attention at the age of 14 when she was abducted from her home in Salt Lake City and rescued nine months later. Smart is also a musician who has played harp on national television in the United States...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionOther
Date of Birth3 November 1987
CitySalt Lake City, UT
CountryUnited States of America
doors looks crowds
I must spin good ghosts out of my hope to oppose the hordes at my window. If those who look in see me condescend to barricade the door, they will know too much and crowd in to overcome me.
leadership wisdom pain
There was a point that I stopped crying. It's not just because I didn't feel pain anymore, not because I didn't feel sorrow. It was just to keep going. I mean, it just was to survive, to live.
soul speak shattered
But those with shattered souls find it very difficult to speak.
bigs not-interested big-things
It's because I'm only interested in the big things that I'm not interested in politics.
believe causes blind
You have to be slightly blind to believe in any cause.
friday children sunday
Once upon a time there was a woman who was just like all women. And she married a man who was just like all men. And they had some children who were just like all children. And it rained all day. The woman had to skewer the hole in the kitchen sink, when it was blocked up. The man went to the pub every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The other nights he mended his broken bicycle, did the pool coupons, and longed for money and power. The woman read love stories and longed for things to be different. The children fought and yelled and played and had scabs on their knees. In the end they all died.
flower moving heart
What is poetry? Do not enquire. The secret dies by prying. How does the heart beat? I fainted when I saw it on the screen, opening and closing like a flower ... Poetry is like this, it is life moving, terrible, vivid. Look the other way when you write, or you might faint.
hate war done
O I know they make war because they want peace; they hate so that they may live; and they destroy the present to make the world safe for the future. When have they not done and said they did it for that?
oil roots machines
If I had my wilderness, nature could be my lover. What can I do in the paved streets for my thirsty roots? I waste time. I encourage fools. I slip the vital hours into penny slot machines -- to pass time, to start my stuck wheels only love can oil.
wings bird relief
How can I be kind? How can I find bird-relief in the nest-building of day-to-day? Necessity supplies no velvet wing with which to escape. I am indeed and mortally pierced with the seeds of love.
fate journey trials
Life is a journey for us all. We all face trials. We all have ups and downs. All of us are human. But we are also the masters of our fate. We are the ones who decide how we are going to react to life.
talking feelings language
Music is the unspoken language that can convey feelings more accurately than talking ever could.
happens
It's not what happens to us that defines us. It's what we choose to do with what happens to us that defines us.
memories nurse ceilings
I review all I know, but can synthesize no meaning. When I doze, the Fact, the certain accomplished calamity, wakes me roughly like a brutal nurse. I see it crouching inflexibly in a corner of the ceiling. It comes down in geometrical diagonal like lightning.It says, I remain, I AM, I shall never cease to be: your memory will grow a deathly glaze: you will forget, you will fade out, but I cannot be undone.Thus every quarter hour it puts the taste of death in my mouth, and shows me, but not gently, how I go whoring after oblivion.