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It’s amazing. My kids have grown me in ways I never knew possible. The patience I’ve received and the love I get from them is just amazing.
As I pass it, I feel as if I saw a dear old mother, sweet in her weakness, trembling at the approach of her dissolution, but not appealing to me against the inevitable, rather endeavouring to reassure me by her patience, and pointing to a hopeful future.
This is the story of what a Woman’s patience can endure, and what a Man’s resolution can achieve.
Soon I knew the craft of experimental physics was beyond me – it was the sublime quality of patience – patience in accumulating data, patience with recalcitrant equipment – which I sadly lacked.
Everything is out there if you know how to find it, and have the patience. I don’t and haven’t, but that’s my problem.
Reading a novel in which all characters illustrate patience, hard work, chastity, and delayed gratification could be a pretty dull experience.
Americans have less and less patience for the intrusive and divisive moral scolds who thrived in the bubbles of the Clinton and Bush years.
I’ve always been a person with patience, and I don’t like to force things.
It seems likely that many of the young who don’t wait for others to call them artists, but simply announce that they are, don’t have the patience to make art.
Tolerance, compromise, understanding, acceptance, patience – I want those all to be very sharp tools in my shed.