Masiela Lusha Quotes

I was an unassuming, skinny little girl.

All three elements of storytelling carry one vital philosophy– to offer universal insight, and many instances, hope and therapy to those who absolutely need it. To illuminate a combined and universal purpose, whether it be through the written word, the spoken word, or both elements incorporated into another element of truth. All exist to tell a story to the world.

My mother's only wish was to start a life in America because America was the cradle of every promise and opportunity.

You have marked your loyal entrance through water and sky, I cannot quite reach you, but by me you lie.

It is the show that keeps giving. Every night it offers something to society, and it offered something to every one of us. It brought us all together for a lifetime."

Poetry is a lyrical insinuation. Often, its melodic subtlety kisses the subconscious mind.

In the end we're all searching for our home, that one place where we belong.

Although I was quiet as a child, I had this resistless passion inside of me–this need and hunger to create my own world. Poetry filled that void, and its words fed that vital necessity of ownership.

If I could I would kiss his wrists.
If I had half the courage to face his pain.

Acting is not a lofty performance; it is simply the source of becoming and existing transparently. Acting, I find, is the art of frothing to the surface every raw and honest emotion. The moment an actor pretends, he loses his audience forever

While some mothers sing lullabies to their children, my mother read me poetry. And to this day, I associate my strongest and most insistent feelings with words lyrically organized on a page.

I would like to see from women in this industry what I have had the privilege of witnessing for a decade now. Strength, conviction, and unapologetic sensitivity for the healing of souls.

It came about like a typical audition where the actress doesn’t know a soul in the room, and exposes her heart and vulnerability in hopes of winning a handful of strangers’ affection.

Sing your song, unforgiving siren,
Part the curtain clouds with your faithful entrance,
And clear your voice.
Pour your song of milk onto this land of yours.

There’s a condensed softness about the Albanian people, and I’ve witnessed examples of their hospitality. Albanian blood runs through my veins and I am proud to call myself Albanian.