Best 163 quotes in «homeless quotes» category

There's no reason someone who has fought for their country should be homeless of jobless.

We Jews are accused of being destroyers: whatever you put up, we tear down. It is true only in a relative sense. We are not iconoclasts deliberately: we are not enemies of your institutions simply because of the dislike between us. We are a homeless mass seeking satisfaction for our constructive instincts. And in your institutions we cannot find satisfaction.

We came into a homeless frontier, a place where we were not welcome, where nothing that lived was welcome, where thought and logic were abhorrent and we were frightened, but we went into this place because the universe lay before us, and if we were to know ourselves, we must know the universe

When homeless people go camping, how do they know?

We just can’t stop people from being homeless if that’s their choice.

What I know about street outreach is that it is essential to dealing with the issue of youth homelessness.

When you are live you never know what is going to happen.

What I prized most was freedom, freedom to do my work, to give myself spontaneously and not out of duty or by command. I could not submit to such demands; rather would I choose the path of a homeless wanderer; yes, even go without love.

With me, you never know what is going to happen

After soft kisses, they pressed their hands together palm to palm. The tingling scattered all over Livia's body, warming her. "Do you feel that?" she whispered with a smile. His lips moved in his silent count. Blake wrapped his fingers around her hand. She copied the movement. Their hands together now resembled a heart-not a cartoon rendering of the shape, but a real human heart. He touched her lips with his and murmured, "I've been feeling it since you first smiled at me.

A homeless man once said "God bless you, sir". I wonder if he really meant it.

A homeless with hope is in a better situation than a hopeless with home!

And what's more, he'll go and live with his friend unless his friend is allowed to come in and live with him...His friend must have a silk cushion just like his and sleep in your room too. Otherwise he will go and sleep in the coal-cellar with his friend

Aren't we all homeless without a home inside our mind?

As Elizabeth Blackmar and Ray Rosenzweig wrote in their magisterial history of [Central Park in NYC]: 'The issue of demoncratic access to the park has also been raised by the increasing number of homeless New Yorkers. Poor people--from the 'squatters' of the 1850s to the 'tramps' of the 1870s and 1890s to the Hooverville residents of the 1930s--have always turned to the park land for shelter...The growing visibility of homeless people in Central Park osed in the starkest terms the contradiction between Americans' commitment to democratic space and their acquiescence in vast disparities of wealth and power.

A truly compassionate man gives a poor woman a portion of his meal before he eats, not after he has eaten.

At six years old we didn't have any money; there was my mother, my brother and I. We had a deadbeat dad; left us before we were two, but she took us at Christmas-time to downtown Los Angeles. We had little cars going around in circles, it was pretty cool, and decorations in the window. She gave my brother and I a dime and told us, "Boys whole half of it each, give it to the man ringing the bell in the bucket." We put it in this bucket, we said, "Mom, why did we give that man a dime? That's like two soda pops." This is 1951, two soda pops, three candy bars. And mom said, "Boys, that's the Salvation Army. They take care of people that have no place to live and no food. And we don't have a lot of money, but we can afford a dime this year. Boys, always remember in life: give a little something to those in need, they'll always be somebody that's not as well-off as you are. No matter where you are or how far down you are, try and help someone along the way." It stuck with me.

A very bouncy Kyle woke Livia at some ridiculous o’clock on Friday morning. “Wakey-wakey, you sloppy, old whore. It’s time to do you up. You’re going out tonight, so you don’t get to dress in nursing home casual.” Kyle ripped off Livia’s covers.

Be prepared to be homeless if you're into making people your home.

Begging is much more difficult than it looks. Contrary to popular belief, it’s a high art form that takes years of dedicated practice to master.

You never know what's going to happen with television these days.

Charity begins on the street when you are homeless.

Clinicians should be trained to identify any underlying conditions that may be associated with homelessness.

Between shortage and absolute poverty an ocean of shades and gradations do emerge on the scale of deficiency. Be that as it may, each stage must find a mode to leave a door ajar for the sun to peer in and human warmth to radiate. ( " Homeless down in the corner")

Clothes are a homeless man’s home.

Don’t pray to me. Don’t pray to me!” Kyle said, alarmed. “We’re in this together. I’ve done things wrong too. We’re human, Cole. We’ll still make mistakes, but now we’ll always have each other to hold when it hurts.” Kyle’s eyes filled with tears.

don't think you can ever forget her don't even try she's not going to budge no choice but to grant her space crown her with sky for she is one of the many and she is each of us

Editors keep pushing deadline strain while people sleep on benches and subway grates; a welter weight boxer dances on the platform at 125th Street station, commuters look unfazed...

Eve held his eyes and confidently licked the length of the razor-sharp blade with the tip of her tongue. Red blood beaded up on her tongue, and she licked her lips, giving them a fresh coat of color. Eve used the knife to blow a kiss in Beckett’s direction and disappeared into the crowd. Beckett forgot to keep dancing. He stood stock still with Kyle still twirling around him. Eve had just f*cked his mind so hard, he wanted to smoke a cigarette and cuddle like some soap-watching woman.

Even a life raft is only supposed to get you from the sinking ship back to land, you were never intended to live in the life raft, to drift years on end, in sight of land but never close enough.

Don't say I'm lucky. Ever.

Every tongue has low standards during starvation.

For all the alcoholics and addicts out there, you are loved, stopped being so stubborn and come in from the cold. Wherever you are, there is a brighter light in your sight. Move towards it every day, and keep moving towards it. Even the worst and strongest addiction is a choice—a choice not to fight, to give up, to indulge the impulse, or instead to accept the hands offered you to help, even from strangers, even from the state. Don’t hate those who gave up on you, it wasn’t their fault, you just wore them down. Show them they were wrong about you. Your troubles are meant to mold you into something better, not destroy you, so FIGHT! Another day comes for the better if you’re standing in the right spot for it to hit you. Find the right spot and stay there until it does.

For the mentally disturbed, Marie knew these sandwich visits might be the only dependable moments in their lives. She also knew she delivered the sandwiches for her own sanity. Something would crumble inside of her if she ever walked by a homeless person and pretended not to notice. Or simply didn't care. In a way, she believed that homeless people were treated as Indians had always been treated. Badly. The homeless were like an Indian tribe, nomadic and powerless, just filled with more than any tribe's share of crazy people and cripples. So, a homeless Indian belonged to two tribes, and was the lowest form of life in the city. The powerful white men of Seattle had created a law that made it illegal to sit on the sidewalk. That ordinance was crazier and much more evil than any homeless person. Sometimes Marie wondered if she worked so hard at anything only because she hated powerful white men. She wondered if she went to college and received good grades just because she was looking for revenge.

Getting through life without a lot of money, possessions, and/or friends is admirable, especially if it is by choice.

Hardened cement chunks languished on the ground. Gray dust particles spewed into every crevice. The homeless desired this place as a sheltered haven.

Happiness lives in every corner of your home and if you are homeless, it lives under the leaves of trees, hiding beneath the sky's cloudiness. All you need to do is to find it with patience.

He gripped the edge of the desk. “I’ve done my best to make sure my brothers have no blood on their hands,” he said with menacing quiet. “I’m going to hell for all three of us.” Beckett said defiantly.

He kept his head down in what seemed to be a prayer. “He counts. You’ve smiled at him four hundred and forty-six times as of a few minutes ago. He announces the number every time I see him.

Hello, beautiful Livia," Blake answered. "How did you know it was me?" Livia saw her wide smile in the rear view mirror. "The phone looked sexier when it rang.

He moved to her earlobe and breathed, “First, I will blow, then I will lick, last I will bite.” Blake took his time blowing an elaborate pattern on her stomach, and Livia was pretty sure he’d spelled the word torture.

He tried not to cry as he wondered if he would ever have a home again.

I am a worthy cause," said Jack. "No. You are a bum," said the man.

I applied at Tower Records on Sunset Boulevard after my band broke up. I really wanted to work there because it involved the love of my life, music. It was also located on the world famous Sunset Strip, a place I dreamed of going to ever since I was a teenager in the 80's to become a rock star.

I continued to work with uncertainty and the impending 90 days ticking away at the shelter. I didn't make enough money to pay rent in L.A., my employer was in a downward spiral, headed for bankruptcy and there was really nothing else keeping me in Hollywood. I didn't have a band, family or friends. The only people I associated with were coworkers at Tower and the drug addicts at the homeless shelter. And both were about to become history. I contemplated the scenario of not finding a place to rent and Tower Records going out of business. I had to figure out what I was going to do? Where was I going to go? I had to make a decisive, drastic decision!

I’d rather donate 10% of my earnings to homeless people on the street than to an organization that sells negativity that I’ll never defeat.

If a homeless person has a funny sign, he hasn't been homeless for that long. A real homeless person is too hungry to be funny.

If all the Christians- I mean all of 'em- got outta the pews on Sundays and into the streets, we'd shut the city down. We'd shut down hunger. We'd shut down loneliness. We'd shut down the notion that there is any such of a thing as a person that don't deserve a kind word and a second chance.

If anyone was ever justified in being depressed, he decided, it was most of the people in the room.

If I came to your town and asked any person on the street, “Which church should I go to if I want to get involved in helping the poor or homeless in this community?” would your church be the first one mentioned? Make this identity your goal.