Barbara Kingsolver Quotes

Thanksgiving, for me, is a time for reflection.

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers And piled with fruits, awake again Thanksgivings for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain!

North Carolina was where you could have Thanksgiving and feel like it was Thanksgiving.

I love feeling the crispness of fall and the sensuality of spring.

Let us learn to appreciate there will be times when the trees will be bare, and look forward to the time when we may pick the fruit.

Thank you, dear God, for this good life and forgive us if we do not love it enough. Thank you for the rain. And for the chance to wake up in three hours and go fishing: I thank you for that now, because I won't feel so thankful then.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, producing varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.

...trust in Creation which is made fresh daily and doesn’t suffer in translation. This God does not work in especially mysterious ways. The sun here rises and sets at six exactly. A caterpillar becomes a butterfly. A bird raises its brood in the forest and a greenheart tree will only grow from a greenheart seed. He brings drought sometimes followed by torrential rains and if these things aren’t always what I had in mind, they aren’t my punishment either. They’re rewards, let’s say for the patience of a seed.

Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.

Thanksgiving is a time when the world gets to see just how blessed and how workable the Christian system is. The emphasis is not on giving or buying, but on being thankful and expressing that appreciation to God and to one another.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

I live in a landscape, which every single day of my life is enriching.

The garden has taught me to live, to appreciate the times when things are fallow and when they're not.

Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.

I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs.

I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on summer humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives.

For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life.

Thanksgiving-day, I fear, If one the solemn truth must touch, Is celebrated, not so much To thank the Lord for blessings o'er, As for the sake of getting more.

Vines will be planted, corn will spring up, a whole growth of new crops; and people will still fall in love in vintages and harvests yet to come. Life is eternal; it is a perpetual renewal of birth and growth.

We love the sight of the brown and ruddy earth; it is the color of life, while a snow-covered plain is the face of death. Yet snow is but the mask of the life-giving rain; it, too, is the friend of man, the tender, sculpturesque, immaculate, warming, fertilizing snow.

In a way, the whole tangible universe itself is a vast residue, a skeleton of countless lives that have germinated in it and have left it, leaving behind them only a trifling, infinitesimal part of their riches.

Each January, I put God first and honor him with the first of our substance by sowing a first fruits offering of one month's pay. That is a big sacrifice, but it is a seed for the harvest I am believing for in the coming year. And God always provides!

I do think that Thanksgiving is a very nice holiday because it's all about saying thank you; it's being thankful.

I should have known I am the rain. I am the land and I am the rain. The grass will grow out of me in a little while.