I learned to dream through reading, learned to create dreams through writing, and learned to develop dreamers through teaching. I shall always be a dreamer.
It can connect us to memories. It can influence our mood and our responses to problems we might face.
Thoughts need words. Words need a voice.
Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes-each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.
Teachers must be celebrated for moving civilization from ignorance to enlightenment, from apathy to responsibility.
Do not let anyone stop you from succeding
[A] person is so much more than the name of a diagnosis on a chart.
Without the local library in my neighborhood, I don’t think I would have grown up to be a writer or a teacher.
Words. I'm surrounding by thousands of words. Maybe millions...Deep within me, words pile up in huge drifts. Mountains of phrases and sentences and connected ideas. Clever expressions. Jokes. Love songs...I have never spoken one single word. I am almost eleven years old.
Do you know what courage is? I guess you don't. Do you know that the courage it took at that moment - to actually blow yourself away - was more than enough courage to keep on living?
She talked to me like I was just like any other student, not a kid in a wheelchair.
I believe in me. And my family does. And Mrs. V. It's the rest of the world I'm not so sure of.
By the way, there is nothing cute about a pink wheelchair. Pink doesn't change a thing.
What would you do if you could fly?" Mrs. V asks as she glances from the bird to me. "Is that on the quiz?" I ask, grinning as I type. "I think we've studied just about everything else." Mrs. V chuckles. "I'd be scared to let go," I type. "Afraid you'd fall?" she asks. "No. Afraid it would feel so good, I'd just fly away.
Go ahead and cry, Andy. Don't be afraid of those tears. Sometimes they help to wash the soul clean.
But I'll always love you, and I'll always miss you and I'll never forget that It's okay to put dragons in the jungle and tears on a tiger
One series of notes, high and delicate, sang of a sweet moonlight kiss gone sour; another line of music rippled with regret over opportunities forever lost.
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