Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~ Mark Twain
Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~ Mark Twain
The mist of familiarity obscures from us the wonder of our being.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's. In the first case you are a man, in the second you're no better than a bird.
''he who speaks must think, he who thinks must write and he who sees must be''
it may never try
but when it does it sigh
it is just that
good
it fly
Faith is believing what you know ain't so.-Mark Twain
I like poetry,long walks on the beach and poking dead things with a stick.
"The fool foldeth his hands together, and eateth his own flesh."
Ecclesiastes 4: 5
Or believing, or disbelieving what is is. As long as it is believing or disbelieving, it is faith in the spirit and what comes from the spirit. But if it comes from what it is so, it is still faith in what it is so. No thing or action was ever born from a man for the latter to actually not have any faith involved in it.
Men are born faithful and reverend in whatever which way. This might be difficult to grasp. Don't ask around.
Last edited by cafolini; 03-17-2012 at 04:42 PM.
A contrast:
Serious, precise, realistic if you happen to be on the spot of a leader. Abe Lincolm:
A friend is one who has the same enemies as you have.
Romantic, vague, hypocritical anywhere, but extremely humorous. Albert Speer:
If Hitler had the capability for friendship, I would have been that friend.
Poor Shaw. I might be an idiot in his final analysis, since I am so patriotic that I would burn our flag in public if it were to be used by those who never understood freedom.
But those were the blinded days of Foucault, also. He and Shaw farted well as they found it necessary.
Yes, but how about this quote:Poor Shaw.
England and America are two countries
divided by a common language.
—George Bernard Shaw
But I have lived, and have not lived in vain:
My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire,
And my frame perish even in conquering pain;
But there is that within me which shall tire
Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire;
Something unearthly, which they deem not of,
Like the remember'd tone of a mute lyre,
Shall on their soften'd spirits sink, and move
In hearts all rocky now the late remorse of love.
- Child Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto IV