“ a beautiful wild kid on heroin, high as a kite and thinking she’s on top of the world, not knowing she’s dying, not believing it even if you show her the marks.

― S.E. Hinton, Rumble Fish

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A kite can’t really fly free,that’s just an expression. In order to soar high in the sky the string of a kite needs to be anchored. If the string breaks the kite drops back to the ground. The kite’s freedom depends on it not being as free as he thinks it is.”

― Simon Napier-Bell, I’m Coming To Take You To Lunch

If one imitates the upright, one becomes upright; if one imitates the crooked, one becomes crooked.

http://www.motherlandnigeria.com/proverbs.html

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“The past doesn’t exist. There is nothing to be sorry for. Today is when we start to live. Look… look at the sea. The sea has no past. It is just there. It will never ask us to explain. The stars, the moon are there to light our way, to shine for us. What do they care what might have happened in the past? They are accompanying us, and are happy with that; can you see them shine? The stars are twinkling in the sky; would they do that if the past mattered? Wouldn’t there be a huge storm if God wanted to punish us? We are alone, you and I, with no past, no memories, no guilt, nothing that can stand in the way of… our love.”

― Ildefonso Falcones, La catedral del mar

Spending more time with friends and family costs nothing. Nor does walking, cooking, meditating, making love, reading or eating dinner at the table instead of in front of the television. Simply resisting the urge to hurry is free.”

― Carl Honoré, In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed

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It is the work of one’s hands that decides what one eats for dinner – for some it is pounded yam, for others it is pounded plantain or nothing.

http://www.motherlandnigeria.com/proverbs.html

Unshared joy is an unlighted candle.

SPANISH

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“…part of me must have really wanted to believe–like a child hearing, in perfect safety, a tale of horror–that the unconscious would be like any other room, once the light was let in. That the dark shapes would resolve only into toy horses and Biedermeyer furniture. That therapy could tame it after all, bring it into society with no fear of its someday reverting. I wanted to believe, despite everything my life had been. Can you imagine?”

― Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49

I pointed out to you the stars, the moon, and all you saw was the tip of my finger.

Sukuma ( Tanzania )

http://www.afriprov.org/index.php

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“Mma Ramotswe had a gift for the American woman, a basket which on her return journey from Bulawayo she had bought, on impulse, from a woman sitting by the side of the road in Francistown. The woman was desperate, and Mma Ramotswe, who did not need a basket, had bought it to help her. It was a traditional Botswana basket, with a design worked into the weaving.

“These little marks here are tears,” she said. “The giraffe gives its tears to the women and they weave them into the basket.”

The American woman took the basket politely, in the proper Botswana way of receiving a gift with both hands. How rude were people who took a gift with one hand, as if snatching it from the donor; she knew better.

You are very kind, Mma,” she said. “But why did the giraffe give its tears?”

Mma Ramotswe shrugged; she had never thought about it. “I suppose that it means that we can all give something,” she said. “A giraffe has nothing else to give–only tears.” Did it mean that? she wondered. And for a moment she imagined that she saw a giraffe peering down through the trees, its strange stilt-borne body among the leaves; and its moist velvet cheeks and liquid eyes; and she thought of all the beauty that there was in Africa, and of the laughter, and the love.

The boy looked at the basket. “Is that true, Mma?”

Mma Ramotswe smiled. “I hope so,” she said.”

― Alexander McCall Smith, Tears of the Giraffe

Those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside

― John F. Kennedy

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“The need is not really for more brains, the need is now for a gentler, a more tolerant people than those who won for us against the ice, the tiger and the bear. The hand that hefted the axe, out of some old blind allegiance to the past fondles the machine gun as lovingly. It is a habit man will have to break to survive, but the roots go very deep.”

― Loren Eiseley, The Immense Journey: An Imaginative Naturalist Explores the Mysteries of Man and Nature

Advice is like snow – the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper in sinks into the mind.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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“If you want to marry me, here’s what you’ll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk…and be still when I talk,
And-hey-where are you going?”

― Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

In your days – things like this happen to you… You get a tap, a nudge, a gentle shake, and life whispers to you, “I know you’re tired – but I don’t want you to miss this.

Mary Anne Radmacher

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“Nothing is ever truly set by fate. In one blink, everything changes. Even though it should be a clear, sunny day, the softest whisper into the wind can become a hurricane that destroys everything it touches. (Acheron)”

― Sherrilyn Kenyon, Sins of the Night

There is still hope.

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

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When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.


-Henri Nouwen

 

Time will show as the Lobster said when they assured him he would become red if he fell into the boiler.

Edward Lear, English artist, writer (1812-1888) ‘literary nonsense’

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“I prefer sinners and madmen, who can learn, who can change, who can teach- or people like myself, if I may say so, who are not afraid to eat a lobster alone as they take on their shoulders the monumental weight of thirty years”

― James Baldwin, Just Above My Head

I like whiskey. I always did, and that is why I never drink it.

– Robert E. Lee

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“Fight for us, O God, that we not drift numb and blind and foolish into vain and empty excitements. Life is too short, too precious, too painful to waste on worldly bubbles that burst. Heaven is too great, hell is too horrible, eternity is too long that we should putter around on the porch of eternity.”
― John Piper

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

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“If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.
I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil
and its head bent low with patience.

The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.

Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds’ nests,
and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.”

― Rabindranath Tagore

If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!

― J.M. Barrie

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“Not everyone wants to climb Mount Everest, but almost everybody can ascend with ropes and harness and experience in new ways our life-giving exchanges with trees and the natural world.”
Genevieve

http://www.dancingwithtrees.com/quotations.htm

Some folks never exaggerate – they just remember big.”

― Audrey Snead

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“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.”

― Sylvia Plath