Minggu, 04 Juli 2010

Quotes Of The Day

Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be
~ Thomas a Kempis ~

You've got a lot of choices. If getting out of bed in the morning is a chore and you're not smiling on a regular basis, try another choice
~ Steven D. Woodhull ~

What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry ~

Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It happens every day
~ Albert Camus ~

In what you say of another, apply the test of kindness, necessity and truth, and let nothing pass your lips without a 2/3 majority
~ Liz Armbruster ~

Give thanks for what you are now, and keep fighting for what you want to be tomorrow ~ Fernanda Miramontes-Landeros ~

Too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are
~ Malcolm S. Forbes ~

Sandwich every bit of criticism between two thick layers of praise
~ Mary Kay Ash ~

There is often less danger in the things we fear than in the things we desire
~ John C. Collins ~

Birds Of Passage - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Black shadows fall
From the lindens tall,
That lift aloft their massive wall
Against the southern sky;

And from the realms
Of the shadowy elms
A tide-like darkness overwhelms
The fields that round us lie.

But the night is fair,
And everywhere
A warm, soft vapor fills the air,
And distant sounds seem near,

And above, in the light
Of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere.

I hear the beat
Of their pinions fleet,
As from the land of snow and sleet
They seek a southern lea.

I hear the cry
Of their voices high
Falling dreamily through the sky,
But their forms I cannot see.

O, say not so!
Those sounds that flow
In murmurs of delight and woe
Come not from wings of birds.

They are the throngs
Of the poet's songs,
Murmurs of pleasures, and pains, and wrongs,
The sound of winged words.

This is the cry
Of souls, that high
On toiling, beating pinions, fly,
Seeking a warmer clime,

From their distant flight
Through realms of light
It falls into our world of night,
With the murmuring sound of rhyme.

John Keats'

But this is human life: the war, the deeds,
The disappointment, the anxiety,
Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,
All human; bearing in themselves this good,
That they are still the air, the subtle food,
To make us feel existence, and to shew
How quiet death is.


from Endymion, Book II, l.153-159.