Isn't friendship amazing? At one time, our friends were just strangers to us. However, there was something special about these strangers; you felt a connection, something in common, a special bond, and your friendship began. What if, as we pass all of the 'strangers' in our lives, if we looked at these strangers as if they could be a friend? What a different world it would be...
James A. Murphy
There's a stranger in a car Driving down your street Acts like he knows who you are Slaps his hand on the empty seat and says "Are you gonna get in Or are you gonna stay out?" Just a stranger in a car Might be the one they told you about Well you never were one for cautiousness You open the door He gives you a tender kiss And you can't even hear them no more - All the voices of choices Now only one road remains And strangers in a car Two hearts Two souls Tonight Two lanes You don't know where you're goin' You don't know what you're doin' Hell it might be the highway to heaven And it might be the road to ruin But this is a song For strangers in a car Baby maybe that's all We really are Strangers in a car (Driving down your street) Just strangers in a car (Driving down your street) Strangers in a car
The people who run the circus kidnapped us from our parents. Since we got here, we have all been working in the circus. We can't see any of our mummies or kiss them OR cuddle up to them. said Adrian. His tears flowing in his big blue eyes that were the colour of the sky. We didn't want to listen to our parents when they told us: 'Never, Ever!' talk to strangers. We all disobeyed and spoke to strangers, and then the strangers stole us away from our parents.
Magda M. Olchawska
Perhaps the greatest rudenesses of our time come not from the callousness of strangers, but from the solicitousness of intimates who believe that their frank criticisms are always welcome, and who feel free to "be themselves" with those they love, which turns out to mean being their worst selves, while saving their best behavior for strangers.
Although many, we might even say most, strangers in this world become easily the victim of a fearful hostility, it is possible for men and women and obligatory for Christians to offer an open and hospitable space where strangers can cast off their strangeness and become our fellow human beings.
It's disappointing enough to know that the people we love will sometimes lie, but it is almost worse when we remember that strangers do this too, and this is why it is best not to admit our lies to strangers because it is not pleasant to learn that someone will lie even when there is little to nothing at stake.
'Maybe you out to go back there.' 'Can't. Gotta stay where... where I know what's what.' Where I don't forget what I am, and that I don't deserve anything better. Would wreck anything better. 'I Reckon that's what most of us think. But there's more strangers where you're from than in some sandland halfway around the world. And more strangers in your head than any place on the map.'
I thought Marcus was going to be in my life forever. Then I thought I was wrong. Now he's back. But this time I know what's certain: Marcus will be gone again, and back again and again and again because nothing is permanent. Especially people. Strangers become friends. Friends become lovers. Lovers become strangers. Strangers become friends once more, and over and over. Tomorrow, next week, fifty years from now, I know I'll get another one-word postcard from Marcus, because this one doesn't have a period signifying the end of the sentence. Or the end of anything at all.
There are videos where I would go approaching strangers and sing the songs from 'The Lion King. I would have been about four years, and I came running up to people on the beach, strangers that I chose at random and began to sing, and my family never knew where I was, they were always looking for me, trying to imagine who I was harassing this time .
The act of consciousness is central; otherwise we are overrun by the complexes. The hero in each of us is required to answer the call of individuation. We must turn away from the cacaphony of the outerworld to hear the inner voice. When we can dare to live its promptings, then we achieve personhood. We may become strangers to those who thought they knew us, but at least we are no longer strangers to ourselves.
We show hospitality to strangers not merely because they need it, but because we need it, too. The stranger at the door is the living symbol and memory that we are all strangers here. This is not our house, our table, our food, our lodging; this is God's house and table and food and lodging. We were pilgrims and wanderers, aliens and strangers, even enemies of God, but we, too, were welcomed into this place. To show hospitality to the stranger is, as Gordon Lathrop has observed, to say, "We are beggars here together. Grace will surprise us both.
Thomas G. Long
Some days, I would find what seemed like entire family trees, torn from once-treasured albums and dumped in disorganized bins, selling 10 for a dollar. I wondered how people could give up pictures of their great-grandparents for complete strangers to paw through - or why complete strangers would want them.
The sympathies of a well-adjusted person can easily be aroused by the plight of strangers. Indeed, the skillful writer of a novel, a play, or an opera can engage our emotions on behalf of people who are not only strangers to us, but who do not even exist! And a person whose emotions cannot be so aroused is not behaving normally.
It is not OK in this culture to talk to friends about causes you believe in, much less to ask them to join in. It's OK to blast perfect strangers with crass messages every hour of the day, but it's a tinge embarrassing, it brings up some shyness, it seems an intrusion, it risks rejection to share real heartfelt commitments. It's easier to share our cynicism with strangers than our dreams with friends.
I learned that love can end in one night, that great friends can become great strangers, that strangers can become best friends, that we never finish to know and understand someone completely, that the 'never ever again' will happen again and that 'forever' always ends, that the one that wants it can, will achieve it and get it, that the one that risks it never looses anything, that physique, figure and beauty attracts but personality makes one fall in love.
A steady exposure to distant human need that is beyond our personal response can gradually inoculate us against particular action... Isolation from local need, and overexposure to overwhelming but distant need, make our responses to strangers uncertain and tentative at best. We need to find or create contemporary equivalents of the city gate, community rituals, and small group meetings in which we can build preliminary relations with strangers.
I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to have a childhood that was _not_ like mine. I have no real frame of reference, but when I question strangers I've found that their childhood generally had much less blood in it, and also that strangers seem uncomfortable when you question them about their childhood. But really, what else are you going to talk about in line at the liquor store? Childhood trauma seems like the natural choice, since it's the reason why most of us are in line there to begin with.
A city street equipped to handle strangers, and to make a safety asset, in itself, our of the presence of strangers, as the streets of successful city neighborhoods always do, must have three main qualities: First, there must be a clear demarcation between what is public space and what is private space. Public and private spaces cannot ooze into each other as they do typically in suburban settings or in projects. Second, there must be eyes upon the street, eyes belonging to those we might call the natural proprietors of the street. The buildings on a street equipped to handle strangers and to insure the safety of both residents and strangers, must be oriented to the street. They cannot turn their backs or blank sides on it and leave it blind. And third, the sidewalk must have users on it fairly continuously, both to add to the number of effective eyes on the street and to induce the people in buildings along the street to watch the sidewalks in sufficient numbers. Nobody enjoys sitting on a stoop or looking out a window at an empty street. Almost nobody does such a thing. Large numbers of people entertain themselves, off and on, by watching street activity.
The sponsors of war closely resemble the weapons they create. And smart bombs, depleted uranium, land mines, rockets and tanks, rather than protect 'widows and orphans and strangers at the gate', are designed precisely to create 'widows and orphans', to transform strangers into enemies and enemies into corpses.
Is there an idea more radical in the history of the human race than turning your children over to total strangers whom you know nothing about, and having those strangers work on your child's mind, out of your sight, for a period of twelve years? Could there be a more radical idea than that? Back in Colonial days in America, if you proposed that kind of idea, they'd burn you at the stake, you mad person! It's a mad idea!
John Taylor Gatto
The capacity for loving strangers, whether one thinks of them as fictional beings or stars one will never meet, is a profound reflection on the new consciousness whereby every individual leads his or life while aware of all the billions of other people on Earth. Perhaps it is a fantasy or a fallacy that we can feel for so many strangers. Perhaps it is a mask for selfishness. But no matter the modern stress on special effects, there isn't a sight in movies as momentous as shots of a face as its mind is being changed. And only movies have allowed that.
Edward Jay Epstein
Harriet, to hide her excitement, had turned to the bookshelves in the corner between the windows and the fireplace. The books, untidily arranged, some standing, some piled on their sides, with newspapers and magazines wedged among them, confused her. There were no sets and a great many were paper-backed. She saw friends - Mr. Dickens was present - and nodding acquaintances - Laurence Sterne, for instance, and Theodore Dreiser - but they were among strangers: Henry Miller, Norman Douglas, Saki, Ronald Firbank, strangers all.
To better understand people, don't just judge them based on how they treat you; rather, look deeply to see how they treat their families, friends and strangers. A lot of people tend to be extremely nice in the process of getting the things they want or need, but would show their true colors after they have succeeded with their agendas. So always bear in mind that a person who has a good heart loves being nice to their friends, family, partner and strangers.
They had no conversation together, no intercourse but what the commonest civility required. Once so much to each other! Now nothing! There had been a time, when of all the large party now filling the drawing-room at Uppercross, they would have found it most difficult to cease to speak to one another. With the exception, perhaps, of Admiral and Mrs. Croft, who seemed particularly attached and happy, (Anne could allow no other exception even among the married couples) there could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so simliar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become aquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.
IT'S A CITY OF STRANGERS, SOME COME TO WORK, SOME TO PLAY. A CITY OF STRANGERS, SOME COME TO STARE, SOME TO STAY. AND EVERY DAY THE ONES WHO STAY AND THEY'LL FIND EACH OTHER IN THE CROWDED STREETS AND THE GUARDED PARK PAST THE RUSTY FOUNTAINS AND THE DUSTY TREES WITH THE BATTERED BARKS AND THEY' WALK TOGETHER PAST THE POSTERED WALLS WITH THE CRUDE REMARKS AND THEY MEET AT PARTIES THROUGH THE FRIENDS OF FRIENDS WHO THEY NEVER "DO I PICK YOU UP OR DO I MEET YOU THERE OR SHALL WE LET IT GO?" "DID YOU GET MY MESSAGE? 'CAUSE I LOOKED IN VAIN." "CAN WE SEE EACH OTHER TUESDAY IF IT DOESN'T RAIN?" "LOOK, I'LL CALL YOU IN THE MORNING OR MY SERVICE WILL EXPLAIN." AND ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN.
Henry had written a novel because there was a hole in him that needed filling, a question that needed answering, a patch of canvas that needed painting-that blend of anxiety, curiosity and joy that is at the origin of art-and he had filled the hole, answered the question, splashed colour on the canvas, all done for himself, because he had to. Then complete strangers told him that his book had filled a hole in them, had answered a question, had brought colour to their lives. The comfort of strangers, be it a smile, a pat on the shoulder or a word of praise, is truly a comfort.
Life is similar to a bus ride. The journey begins when we board the bus. We meet people along our way of which some are strangers, some friends and some strangers yet to be friends. There are stops at intervals and people board in. At times some of these people make their presence felt, leave an impact through their grace and beauty on us fellow passengers while on other occasions they remain indifferent. But then it is important for some people to make an exit, to get down and walk the paths they were destined to because if people always made an entrance and never left either for the better or worse, then we would feel suffocated and confused like those people in the bus, the purpose of the journey would lose its essence and the journey altogether would neither be worthwhile nor smooth.
IT'S A CITY OF STRANGERS, SOME COME TO WORK, SOME TO PLAY. A CITY OF STRANGERS, SOME COME TO STARE, SOME TO STAY. AND EVERY DAY SOME GO AWAY AND THEY'LL FIND EACH OTHER IN THE CROWDED STREETS AND THE GUARDED PARK PAST THE RUSTY FOUNTAINS AND THE DUSTY TREES WITH THE BATTERED BARKS AND THEY' WALK TOGETHER PAST THE POSTERED WALLS WITH THE CRUDE REMARKS AND THEY MEET AT PARTIES THROUGH THE FRIENDS OF FRIENDS WHO THEY NEVER "DO I PICK YOU UP OR DO I MEET YOU THERE OR SHALL WE LET IT GO?" "DID YOU GET MY MESSAGE? 'CAUSE I LOOKED IN VAIN." "CAN WE SEE EACH OTHER TUESDAY IF IT DOESN'T RAIN?" "LOOK, I'LL CALL YOU IN THE MORNING OR MY SERVICE WILL EXPLAIN." AND ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN. AND ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN, AND ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN, AND ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN. ANOTHER HUNDRED PEOPLE JUST GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN