We have been so anxious to give our children what we did not have that we have neglected to give them what we did have. The Vent

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What is the use of a new-born child?

Benjamin Franklin, when asked the use of a new invention

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The Garden Within by Celia Berrell

There is a garden
in my heart
where beauty grows
in fits and starts.

Where smiles are petals
from the flowers
bestowed by others
from their bowers.

Nutritious hope
reaps seeds to feed
my spirit
for its every need.

With gratitude
I’ll reach my goal.
To touch the island
of my soul.

 

 

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Life is like a very short visit to a toy shop between birth and death. Desmond Morris

I knew I was an unwanted baby when I saw that my bath toys were a toaster and a radio.   Joan Rivers1 1 1 1 oldchinatownbook00gent_0049

The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 – 1939), Saturday 27 June 1891,

1 1 1 1 The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. - 1866 - 1939), Saturday 27 June 1891,

 

1 1 1 1 oldchinatownbook00gent_0177

 

The World’s News (Sydney, NSW : 1901 – 1955), Saturday 23 February 1924,

1 1 1 1 The World's News (Sydney, NSW - 1901 - 1955), Saturday 23 February 1924,

Lovers, to bed ; ’tis almost fairy time.

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For now to sorrow must I tune my song. 
And set my harp to notes of saddest woe. 

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My soul is an enchanted boat. 
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float 
Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing.

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Congenial spirits part to meet again.  
But she was journeying to the land of 
souls.

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My age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly.

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 7 February 1931,

1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 7 February 1931,

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The spirit- world around this world of sense 
Floats like an - atmosphere, and every- 
where 
Wafts through these earthly mists and 
vapours dense 
A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Dem give yu basket fi carry water. meaning: Someone give yu a raw deal.

http://www.lasanabandele.com/jamaican_proverbs.html

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Naku te rourou nau te rourou ka ora ai te iwi

With your basket and my basket the people will live

Again referring to co-operation and the combination of resources to get ahead. This proverb can be very useful and is often said.

http://www.maori.cl/Proverbs.htm

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In for a penny, in for a pound.

English

If you called yourself a milk mushroom, get into the basket .

Russian

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Peppa bu’n hot, but ih good fi curry. meaning: Everything has its usefulness. A good advice/counsel might be painful to take/accept. Jamaica.

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Goody Two-Shoes

Two-Shoes, Two-Shoes,
Little Goody Two-Shoes!
Do you know about her? Well,
I’m ready now to tell
How the little creature came
By so odd a name.
Clara Doty Bates

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“Charity is prescribed for each descendant of Adam every day the sun rises.” He was then asked: “From what do we give charity every day?” The Prophet answered: “The doors of goodness are many… enjoining good, forbidding evil, removing harm from the road, listening to the deaf, leading the blind, guiding one to the object of his need, hurrying with the strength of one’s legs to one in sorrow who is asking for help, and supporting the feeble with the strength of one’s arms — all of these are charity prescribed for you.” He also said: “Your smile for your brother is charity.” – Fiqh-us-Sunnah, Volume 3, Number 98

1 1 1 1 go5odytwoshoes00cran_0001

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 23 January 1926

1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 23 January 1926

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He had that rare weird electricity about him — that extremely wild and heavy presence that you only see in a person who has abandoned all hope of ever behaving “normally.” Hunter S. Thompson, “Fear and Loathing ’72”

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Why does the darkness make voices more likely
to win or break our hearts?

Soon it will be dawn, soon it will be
weirdly beautiful - the water a foot from the floorboards,
high-set verandahs kissing their reflections,
six-foot fences vanquished - and soon we'll realise
          we're trapped.

But for now, it's night, and there's just
the torchlight, and the radio voices
and the raising things up, the lifting that is like belief:
the best we can do
          but never high enough.

Michelle Dicinoski: Electricity for Beginners

http://www.hotsdots.com/poetry/2012/09/michelle-dicinovski-electricity-for-beginners-anthony-lynch-night-train/

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Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. : 1909 – 1954), Tuesday 26 December 1950,

1 1 1 1 Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. - 1909 - 1954), Tuesday 26 December 1950,

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Addiction isn’t “fun”: The problem with moderation manifestoes – Salon.com

My grandfather was being trained as a pilot during the Second World War when, drunk one night, he dove into a swimming pool that had no water in it. It wasn’t the first time he’d been that loaded. It was, however, his last. His body was flown home, where his wealthy family promptly organized a funeral fit for a military hero, though the only battle he’d fought was with a bottle. Denial runs deep in my family.

So it’s not surprising that his daughter — my mother — also grew up to be an alcoholic. Nor that her cousins, aunts, uncles, sibling all became addicts at one point or another. I’ve been a witness to much of it. We had only one family reunion. My 16-year-old brother with his newly minted driver’s license drove us the two hours home in a blizzard because my parents could barely stand.

My proximity to addicts gives me also a working familiarity with their double-speak. I could probably create a glossary, a sort of addict-to-English translation guide. And though I have deep compassion for addicts, I don’t have a lot of patience with them.

via Addiction isn’t “fun”: The problem with moderation manifestoes – Salon.com.

via Addiction isn’t “fun”: The problem with moderation manifestoes – Salon.com.

Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End? Mary Oliver

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 Gakiibatha ni koi ni karithoitha

He who spends his time adorning himself knows he is going to a dance

There is a reason for everything

 

http://www.misterseed.com/link%20pages/PROVERBS2.htm

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Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End?

by Mary Oliver

Don’t call this world adorable, or useful, that’s not it.
It’s frisky, and a theater for more than fair winds.
The eyelash of lightning is neither good nor evil.
The struck tree burns like a pillar of gold.

But the blue rain sinks, straight to the white
feet of the trees
whose mouths open.
Doesn’t the wind, turning in circles, invent the dance?
Haven’t the flowers moved, slowly, across Asia, then Europe,
until at last, now, they shine
in your own yard?

Don’t call this world an explanation, or even an education.

When the Sufi poet whirled, was he looking
outward, to the mountains so solidly there
in a white-capped ring, or was he looking

to the centre of everything: the seed, the egg, the idea
that was also there,
beautiful as a thumb
curved and touching the finger, tenderly,
little love-ring,

as he whirled,
oh jug of breath,
in the garden of dust?

1 1 1 1 dan8cingancientmo00urli_0191

Eltham and Whittlesea Shires Advertiser and Diamond Creek Valley Advocate (Vic. : 1917 – 1922), Friday 5 October 1917,

1 1 1 1 Eltham and Whittlesea Shires Advertiser and Diamond Creek Valley Advocate (Vic. - 1917 - 1922), Friday 5 October 1917,

1 1 1 1 dancingancientmo00urli_0191

Deep-red the bracken, its shape all gone,
The wild goose has raised his wonted cry.

 Irish Poem, Translated by Caitlin Matthews  

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Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

From:

Dream Work

Copyright ©:

Atlantic Monthly Press & Mary Oliver

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Elizabeth Joceline: Drunkennesse is the highway to hell.

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George Ade:
R-e-m-o-r-s-e,
Those dry Martinis were too much for me.
Last night I really felt immense,
To-day I feel like thirty cents;
It is no time for mirth and laughter
In the cold grey dawn of the morning after.

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e. e. cummings:
humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn you
intelligence to buy a drink.

We are puppets complete in their dark game Yet not a one among us knows their names – Annie Tennant

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“Because to take away a man’s freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person.”
― Madeleine L’Engle

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Money is the string with which a sardonic destiny directs the motions of its puppets.

William Somerset Maugham

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The Horsham Times (Vic. : 1882 – 1954), Tuesday 28 February 1933,

1 1 1 1 The Horsham Times (Vic. - 1882 - 1954), Tuesday 28 February 1933,

 

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Break the rules. Find your freedom. Live your life.

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“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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Sunday Times (Sydney, NSW : 1895 – 1930), Sunday 22 November 1903,

1 1 1 1 Sunday Times (Sydney, NSW - 1895 - 1930), Sunday 22 November 1903,

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Emancipate yourself from mental slavery

A quote from Bob Marley, which means that in order for you to be truly free, you must not let others get inside your head and dictate how to live your life.

http://www.tattoo-models.net/100-best-tattoo-quotes/

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Nothing but tolerance would change the course of her winds … Freedom, to unlock denial; freedom, that incorrigible weapon.

Vicki Viidikas

http://rochfordstreetreview.com/tag/australian-poetry/

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