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Frances Farmer Quotes
- But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn't God.
- I couldn't get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn't last.
- I didn't think then, and I still don't, that I was actually sick.
- I have learned that to have a good friend is the purest of all God's gifts, for it is a love that has no exchange of payment.
- I just knew that God wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget.
- I think God just died of old age. And, when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right!
- I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger-nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God.
- I went to Sunday School and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them.
- I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was... nothingness.
- If a person is treated like a patient, they are apt to act like one.
- It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? It still puzzles me.
- That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always?
- The more people pointed at me in scorn the more stubborn I got and when they began calling me the Bad Girl of West Seattle High, I tried to live up to it.
- The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.
- There comes a point when a dream becomes reality and reality becomes a dream.