"During the ten years in which Austin was their home, Amelia Barr took an active part in the social life of the frontier capital and wrote in her diary vivid pictures of many Texans and local events and scenes. In 1914 much of this material appeared in her autobiography, All the Days of My Life! Her accounts included women, Sam Houston, Indians who visited the capital, and local affairs concerning the Civil War. Though she did not show it outwardly, Amelia Barr was a mystic and deeply religious. Her life was governed by intuitions and prophetic dreams, many of which she related in striking detail. In 1866 the family moved to Galveston, where Barr had found new employment. In the yellow fever scourge of the next year, Barr and three sons died, leaving Mrs. Barr and three daughters. For a while she operated a boardinghouse on Tremont Street, but when this venture failed she went to New York"--Tshaonline.org.
Danish poet and novelist Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) is best known for the dozens of fairy tales he wrote, including "The Little Mermaid," "The Ugly Duckling," and "The Snow Queen." Andersen's sense of fantasy, power of description, and acute sensitivity are strikingly evident in his autobiography. Andersen masterfully depicts the extreme poverty of his provincial childhood and the international celebrity of his later years, and also provides insights into the sources of many of his most famous tales.
When Susan Lucci and All My Children were introduced to the world in 1970, American television changed forever. Susan’s character, the beautiful, spirited, and mercurial Erica Kane, was an original—the first vixen viewers loved to hate. But while millions have enjoyed getting to know Erica’s many sides, the woman who played her has remained a mystery. In her long-awaited memoir, this very private actress, wife, mother, daughter, grandmother, sister, friend, and entrepreneur pulls back the curtain to reveal her story. As charming, down-to-earth, and compelling as the woman whose story it tells, All My Life shines a spotlight on one of our most popular stars and reminds us of the power of dreams and how we can find the courage and tenacity to make them come true. This edition contains a new chapter about the landmark final season of All My Children.
For the first time, music legend and humanitarian activist Dionne Warwick reflects on 50 years in showbusiness and the lessons she has learned from being an artist, a mother and a global icon. From her rise to superstardom to raising millions of dollars for AIDS research, she gives readers a glimpse into her dazzling, inspiring life. 'If you think you can do it, you can do it' was the advice she got from her grandfather as a young girl - words she has never forgotten. Like her music and humanitarian work, her story is guaranteed to give hope and inspiration to people across the world.
All But My Life is the unforgettable story of Gerda Weissmann Klein's six-year ordeal as a victim of Nazi cruelty. From her comfortable home in Bielitz (present-day Bielsko) in Poland to her miraculous survival and her liberation by American troops--including the man who was to become her husband--in Volary, Czechoslovakia, in 1945, Gerda takes the reader on a terrifying journey. Gerda's serene and idyllic childhood is shattered when Nazis march into Poland on September 3, 1939. Although the Weissmanns were permitted to live for a while in the basement of their home, they were eventually separated and sent to German labor camps. Over the next few years Gerda experienced the slow, inexorable stripping away of "all but her life." By the end of the war she had lost her parents, brother, home, possessions, and community; even the dear friends she made in the labor camps, with whom she had shared so many hardships, were dead. Despite her horrifying experiences, Klein conveys great strength of spirit and faith in humanity. In the darkness of the camps, Gerda and her young friends manage to create a community of friendship and love. Although stripped of the essence of life, they were able to survive the barbarity of their captors. Gerda's beautifully written story gives an invaluable message to everyone. It introduces them to last century's terrible history of devastation and prejudice, yet offers them hope that the effects of hatred can be overcome.
Inspirational memoir about what you would do if you had only twenty-gour hours to live. What are you most grateful for, to whom would you apologize, whom would you forgive? What would you do?
I WAS going home from the village, and it was an autumn evening, just after sunset, when every crop was cut and housed in our level country, and when the fields of stubble and browned grass had nothing on them, except here and there, a tree. They say our bare flats, in Cambridgeshire, are neither picturesque, nor beautiful. I cannot say for that—but I know no landscape has ever caught my eye like the long line of sunburnt, wiry grass, and the great, wide arch above, with all its shades of beautiful color. There were no hedgerows to skirt the path on which I was, and I saw nothing between me and the sky, save a solitary figure stalking along the highway, and in the other direction the clump of trees which surrounded Cottiswoode; the sky, in the west, was still full of the colors of the sunset, and from the horizon it rose upward in a multitude of tints and shades, the orange and red melting into a rosy flush which contrasted for a while, and then fell into the sweet, calm, peaceful tone of the full blue. In the time of the year, and the look of the night, there was alike that indescribable composure and satisfaction which are in the sunny evenings after harvest; the work was done, the day was fading, everything was going home; the rooks sailed over the sky, and the laborer trudged across the moor. Labor was over, and provision made, and the evening and the night, peace and refreshment, and rest were coming for every man. I do not suppose I noticed this at the time, but I have the strongest impression of it all in my remembrance now. And I was passing along, as I always did, quickly and, perhaps, with a firmer and a steadier step than was usual to girls of my years, swinging in my hand a bit of briony, which, for the sake of its beautiful berries, I was carrying home, but which stood a good chance of being destroyed before we got there—not taking leisure to look much about me, thinking of nothing particular, with a little air of the superior, the lady of the manor, in my independent carriage—a little pride of proprietorship in my firm footstep.
