It all depends on whose ox is gored

Your view of the justness of the outcome of a dispute depends on which side you are on and the degree of personal loss you have suffered.

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THE BLACK OX HAS NOT TROD ON HIS FOOT”

He is inexperienced, has not known sorrow or care.

http://www.deproverbio.com/display.php?a=3&r=43

It’s teatime and all the dolls are at the table. Listen. It’s that simple.

Anne Lamott

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“If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed; but the cleverest, the acutest men are often under an illusion about women: they do not read them in a true light: they misapprehend them, both for good and evil: their good woman is a queer thing, half doll, half angel; their bad woman almost always a fiend.”

― Charlotte Brontë, Shirley

We’re all of us haunted and haunting.”

― Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby

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Comedian Russell Means finds himself plagued, even in his adulthood, by memories of acts of mischief and pranks done during his childhood. Thus, at around seven or eight years old, he watched an elderly neighbour planting flowers. The man, seeing Russell’s gaze, explained and illustrated, in some detail, the ways in which the seeds could be rooted into the ground, then grow into seedlings and buds, then, in time, flowers. Stepping into his home for a moment, he asked the young Means to be sure not to trample upon his flowers. Once the man had gone inside, Means, after waiting a moment, felt gripped by an urge to tread on every flower until it disappeared into the flat of the earth beneath it. He did so. The hurt and shock in his neighbour’s eyes when he emerged from his house and viewed the destruction, continues to haunt the now wealthy and renowned comedian.

https://sites.google.com/site/swanezine/guilt-and-shame-quotes

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”

― C.S. Lewis

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You don’t pay back your parents. You can’t. The debt you owe them gets collected by your children, who hand it down in turn. It’s a sort of entailment. Or if you don’t have children of the body, it’s left as a debt to your common humanity. Or to your God, if you possess or are possessed by one.

Lois McMaster Bujold

It is better to be the head of chicken than the rear end of an ox.

– Japanese

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“I hear the cock woke you up.”

Eve choked on her coffee. “What?”

“Not that kind of cock.” Sinead sent a sparkling look over her shoulder. “Though if that’s true as well, good for you. I meant the rooster.”

― J.D. Robb, Indulgence in Death

Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t goin’ away.

— Elvis Presley, American rock ‘n’ roll icon (1935-1977)

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“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don’t believe there is a single person I loved that I didn’t eventually betray.”

― Albert Camus, The Fall

No reply is best

It is often advisable not to give any answer. Don’t say no. Don’t say yes. Say nothing.

http://www.englishclub.com/ref/Sayings/Talking/

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I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings.

from the Fox-”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Persistence is the key

http://www.wiseoldsayings.com/prayer-quotes/

 

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Some stand on tiptoe trying to reach God to talk to him – you try too hard, friend – drop to your knees and listen to him, he’ll hear you better that way.


(Ever Garrison)

http://www.starstuffs.com/inspirational_sayings/prayer.htm

By gaming we lose both our time and treasure: two things most precious to the life of man.

Owen Feltham (1602-1668)

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Someone once asked me why women don’t gamble as much as men do, and I gave the common-sensical reply that we don’t have as much money. That was a true but incomplete answer. In fact, women’s total instinct for gambling is satisfied by marriage.

Gloria Steinem)

“You scour the Bowery, ransack the Bronx,/ Through funeral parlours and honky-tonks./ From river to river you comb the town/ For a place to lay your family down.”

Ogden Nash

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Bowery Blues

The story of man
Makes me sick
Inside, outside,
I don’t know why
Something so conditional
And all talk
Should hurt me so.

I am hurt
I am scared
I want to live
I want to die
I don’t know
Where to turn
In the Void
And when
To cut
Out

For no Church told me
No Guru holds me
No advice
Just stone
Of New York
And on the cafeteria
We hear
The saxophone
O dead Ruby
Died of Shot
In Thirty Two,
Sounding like old times
And de bombed
Empty decapitated
Murder by the clock.

And I see Shadows
Dancing into Doom
In love, holding
Tight the lovely asses
Of the little girls
In love with sex
Showing themselves
In white undergarments
At elevated windows
Hoping for the Worst.

I can’t take it
Anymore
If I can’t hold
My little behind
To me in my room

Then it’s goodbye
Sangsara
For me
Besides
Girls aren’t as good
As they look
And Samadhi
Is better
Than you think
When it starts in
Hitting your head
In with Buzz
Of glittergold
Heaven’s Angels
Wailing

Saying

We’ve been waiting for you
Since Morning, Jack
Why were you so long
Dallying in the sooty room?
This transcendental Brilliance
Is the better part
(of Nothingness
I sing)

Okay.
Quit.
Mad.
Stop.

Kerouac Jack

Truth’s best ornament is nakedness.

German

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 it wasn’t pretend, I wasn’t in a fairytale or a fable. I shut my eyes and absorbed the silent whoomp that always accompanies this revelation. It’s the sound of the real world, gigantic and impossible, replacing the smaller version of reality that I wear like a bonnet, clutched tightly under my chin.”

― Miranda July, It Chooses You

You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you.

James Allen

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As Days Unroll

Some days will drip in slow descent
along the creases of our skin;
they leave our inspiration clogged,
the texture of our labors thin.

Some days will coil with cobra-stealth,
attack when we are least prepared;
we cannot walk unscathed and yet
survival’s sweet – for we have dared!

Some days erect their wired barbs;
we struggle, bleed, admit we failed.
(And foolishly withdraw in shame –
as though our virtue was impaled.)

But ah, the days that string their pearls
across our shoulders, warmly rest
their sundrop auras…these we clasp
in awe, aware that we are blest.

© Laryalee Fraser

http://laryalee.webs.com/creek/A/days.htm

Teams share the burden and divide the grief.

Doug Smith

http://www.heartquotes.net/teamwork-quotes.html

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“Sometimes carrying the burden of an upsetting truth, and hiding it, is actually a gift you give to someone else. You bear that burden, so they don’t have to, in a situation where telling them will change nothing.”

― Cassandra Clare

“Worry is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained.”

A.S. Roche

http://www.marinal-anon.org/pages/welcome/quotes-and-sayings.php

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A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

― Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

Crabs dig holes according to the size of their shells.

Japanese

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The Poet Of Ignorance

Perhaps the earth is floating,
I do not know.
Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups
made by some giant scissors,
I do not know.
Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear,
I do not know.
Perhaps God is only a deep voice
heard by the deaf,
I do not know.

Perhaps I am no one.
True, I have a body
and I cannot escape from it.
I would like to fly out of my head,
but that is out of the question.
It is written on the tablet of destiny
that I am stuck here in this human form.
That being the case
I would like to call attention to my problem.

There is an animal inside me,
clutiching fast to my heart,
a huge carb.
The doctors of Boston
have thrown up their hands.
They have tried scalpels,
needles, poison gasses and the like.
The crab remains.
It is a great weight.
I try to forget it, go about my business,
cook the broccoli, open the shut books,
brush my teeth and tie my shoes.
I have tried prayer
but as I pray the crab grips harder
and the pain enlarges.

I had a dream once,
perhaps it was a dream,
that the crab was my ignorance of God.
But who am I to believe in dreams?

Anne Sexton

The banjo is such a happy instrument -you can’t play a sad song on the banjo – it always comes out so cheerful.”

― Steve Martin

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Did you hear that they’ve isolated the gene for banjo playing?

It’s the first step to a cure!

http://www.you-can-be-funny.com/Banjo-Jokes.html