Quotes
Quotes about Pen
I knock unbidden once at every gate-- If sleeping, wake--if feasting, rise before I turn away--it is the hour of fate, And they who follow me reach every state Mortals desire, and conquer every foe Save death, but those who doubt of hesitate, Condemned to failure, penury and woe, Seek me in vain and uselessly implore, I answer not, and I return no more.
If you view all the things that happen to you, both good and bad, as opportunities, then you operate out of a higher level of consciousness.
Some people expect the door of opportunity to be opened with an electric eye.
The opposition is indispensable. A good statesman, like any other sensible human being, always learns more from his opposition than from his fervent supporters.
Human beings are so made that the ones who do the crushing feel nothing; it is the person crushed who feels what is happening. Unless one has placed oneself on the side of the oppressed, to feel with them, one cannot understand.
No other offense has ever been visited with such severe penalties as seeking to help the oppressed.
You can do anything you think you can. This knowledge is literally the gift of the gods, for through it you can solve every human problem. It should make of you an incurable optimist. It is the open door.
So of cheerfulness, or a good temper, the more it is spent, the more of it remains.
In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes in the morning.
Women are natural guerrillas. Scheming, we nestle into the enemy's bed, avoiding open warfare, watching the options, playing the odds.
Its Constitution--the glittering and sounding generalities of natural right which make up the Declaration of Independence.
Original thought is like original sin: both happened before you were born to people you could not have possibly met.
There is no real evil in life, except great pain; all the rest is imaginary, and depends on the light in which we view things.
From the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with light his blended colors glow. . . . . The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.
Vain is the hope by colouring to display The bright effulgence of the noontide ray Or paint the full-orb'd ruler of the skies With pencils dipt in dull terrestrial dyes.
It is for you that paradise is opened, the tree of life is planted, the age to come is prepared, plenty is provided, a city is built, rest is appointed, goodness is established and wisdom perfected beforehand.
The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are open paradise.
Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my friend, the Historian in one of his flashing moments: "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."
There is always a moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in. -Graham Green.
As adults, we must ask more of our children than they know how to ask of themselves. What can we do to foster their open-hearted hopefulness, engage their need to collaborate, be an incentive to utilize their natural competency and compassion...show them ways they can connect, reach out, weave themselves into the web of relationships that is called community. . -Dawna Markova.
Frederick Buechner,'Whistling in the Dark' When a child is born, a father is born. A mother is born, too of course, but at least for her it's a gradual process. Body and soul, she has nine months to get used to what's happening. She becomes what's happening. But for even the best-prepared father, it happens all at once. On the other side of a plate-glass window, a nurse is holding up something roughly the size of a loaf of bread for him to see for the first time. Even if he should decide to abandon it forever ten minutes later, the memory will nag him to the grave. He has seen the creation of the world. It has his mark on it. He has its mark on him. Both marks are, for better or for worse, indelible. All sons, like all daughters, are prodigals if they're smart. Assuming the Old Man doesn't run out on them first, they will run out on him if they are to survive, and if he's smart he won't put up too much of a fuss. A wise father sees all this coming, and maybe that's why he keeps his distance from the start. He must survive too. Whether they ever find their way home again, none can say for sure, but it's the risk he must take if they're ever to find their way at all. In the meantime, the world tends to have a soft spot in its heart for lost children. Lost fathers have to fend for themselves. Even as the father lays down the law, he knows that someday his children will break it as they need to break it if ever they're to find something better than law to replace it. Until and unless that happens, there's no telling the scrapes they will get into trying to lose him and find themselves. Terrible blnders will be made-dissapointments and failures, hurts and losses of every kind. And they'll keep making them even after they've found themselves too, of course, because growing up is a process that goes on and on. And every hard knock they ever get, knocks the father even harder still, if that's possible, and if and when they finally come through more or less in one piece at the end, there's maybe no rejoicing greater than his in all creation. -Fatherhood.
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
Death penalties can be imposed by unelected judges and by unelected Pentagon generals. In Iraq death penalties have been caused by .. depleted uranium 80 times the normal level.. which has generated cancer in Iraqis as well as Italian American and other troops . compulsory vaccines from the warprofiteering pharmaco-military industrial complex . Lariam, ostensibly antimalarial drug made by Roche which have killed 4 wives whose husbands had drug caused rage. . heat rising to 137 degrees and melting soap as well as turning metal soda pop cans on a loading dock into chambers in which Nutra Sweet becomes more toxic . Baghdad Boils, face lesions, blamed on sand flies... food poisoning deaths from heat on military packagedmeals . ' friendly fire' . lack of protective gear . helicopter malfunctions in Chinook, Osprey and Black Hawk helicopters . underfunded hospital system . those hostile to the invaders and occupiers of their own Iraq.
Alternative Terror War Tanks rolled over to Jenin and its Refugee Camp As battlefields in a minute Clouds of black smokes belched From the nozzle of the missiles Turned the dwellings into debris And lives breathe under rubble Still desires of living That will never be fulfilled Sighing are heard in the air Unseen ghosts are roaming freely Searching their brotherhoods Living or dead Souls are still weeping bitterly With sorrows that never end In the war turned atmosphere Flying high in the sky appeared The hungry vultures that smell Odors of rotten human flesh As if the open graveyards To wipe the terrors and even its ghosts Out of the worldly atmosphere Reassuring pure peace In every peopleâs mind Isât the rebirth of terror Or alternative terror ? © Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar.
By them there sat the loving pelican, Whose young ones, poison'd by the serpent's sting, With her own blood to life again doth bring.
