Momo listened to everyone and everything - even to the rain and the wind and the pine trees - and all of them spoke to her after their own fashion.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My mother listened to everything I said, carefully - not that what I said was particularly interesting, but I was her daughter.
No one knows what an amazing spirit she was. She wasn't only a mother; she was a best friend.
She is descended from a long line that her mother listened to.
The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.
Mother Nature is always speaking. She speaks in a language understood within the peaceful mind of the sincere observer. Leopards, cobras, monkeys, rivers and trees; they all served as my teachers when I lived as a wanderer in the Himalayan foothills.
I was my mother's favorite, and she'd help me with everything.
Mother was actually a great doer and organizer. All the special occasions were directed by mother.
Since childhood she had walked the Devon rivers with her father looking for flowers and the nests of birds, passing some rocks and trees as old friends, seeing a Spirit everywhere, gentle in thought to all her eyes beheld.
Mama had her little cough. Once or twice, some quiet sobbing, out of sight... Or the slamming of kitchen cupboard doors. That was her language.
I was friends with Susan Sontag the last four years of her life. She had this amazing charisma and so much energy, but she had a sad little funeral in Montparnasse in Paris. It was rainy. It was all wrong. And I was thinking, 'God, she loved life so much.'
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