Mitch Albom, fully Mitchell David "Mitch" Albom

Mitch
Albom, fully Mitchell David "Mitch" Albom
1958

American Author, Journalist, Screenwriter, Dramatist, Radio and Television Broadcaster and Musician

Author Quotes

We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.

What is it? A prayer. For a child? She nodded. For me? Another nod. On a tree? Trees spend all day looking up at God.

When we are most alone is when we embrace another?s loneliness.

With Marguerite, he wanted only time?more and more time?and he was granted it, night-times and day-times and night-times again.

You didn?t get it. Sacrifice is a part of life. It?s supposed to be. It?s not something to regret. It?s something to aspire to. Little sacrifices. Big sacrifices. A mother works so her son can go to school. A daughter moves home to take care of her sick father. That?s the thing. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you?re not really losing it. You?re just passing it on to someone else.

You need to keep people close. You need to give them access to your heart.

There is a time for hello and a time for good-bye. It's why the act of burying thing seems natural, but the act of digging them up does not.

This is a story about a family and, as there is a ghost involved, you might call it a ghost story. But every family is a ghost story. The dead sit at our tables long after they have gone.

Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won?t hurt you. It will only help. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, All right, it?s just fear, I don?t have to let it control me. I see it for what it is.

We think we don't deserve love, we think if we let it in we'll become too soft. But a wise man named Levine said it right. He said, 'love is the only rational act.

What she mostly wanted, he learned, was the same thing many people want?someone to notice she was there.

When you are measuring life, you are not living it.

With no loss or sacrifice, we can't appreciate what we have.

You died. ... And I lost everything... Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance it. .. Life has to end... love doesn't.

You really loved her?' 'I would have given my life.' 'Would you have taken it?' 'No, child,' he said. 'That is not ours to do.

There is no experience like having children.? That?s all. There is no substitute for it. You cannot do it with a friend. You cannot do it with a lover. If you want the experience of having complete responsibility for another human being, and to learn how to love and bond in the deepest way, then you should have children.

This is a story about a man named Eddie and it begins at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun.

War could bond men like a magnet, but like a magnet it could repel them, too. The things they saw, the things they did. Sometimes they just wanted to forget.

We... need to forgive ourselves... For all the things we didn't do. All the things we should have done. You can't get stuck on the regrets of what should have happened.

What was the constant? Movement. Yes. With time there was always movement. The setting sun. The dripping water. The pendulums. The spilling sand. To realize his destiny, such movement had to cease. He had to stop the flow of time completely.

When you come to the end, that?s where God begins.

Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creatures endures. A fear of time running out.

You don't know how to live until you learn how to die.

You see this face, these wrinkles? I earned every one of them

There is no fair in life and death. If it were, no good men would die young.

Author Picture
First Name
Mitch
Last Name
Albom, fully Mitchell David "Mitch" Albom
Birth Date
1958
Bio

American Author, Journalist, Screenwriter, Dramatist, Radio and Television Broadcaster and Musician