Category Archives: ACTION

The world is full of cactus, but we don’t have to sit on it. – Will Foley


“But… all I said was that I was scared.”

After what you got to experience? That’s smart, kid,” I said. “I’m scared, too. Every time something like this happens, it scares me. But being strong doesn’t get you through. Being smart does. I’ve beaten people and things who were stronger than I was, because they didn’t use their heads, or because I used what I had better than they did. It isn’t about muscle, kiddo, magical or otherwise. It’s about your attitude. About your mind.”

She nodded slowly and said, “About doing things for the right reasons.”

Jim Butcher.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in – forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” ~Emerson

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“People tend to be generous when sharing their nonsense, fear, and ignorance. And while they seem quite eager to feed you their negativity, please remember that sometimes the diet we need to be on is a spiritual and emotional one. Be cautious with what you feed your mind and soul. Fuel yourself with positivity and let that fuel propel you into positive action.”
― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

Kuhi no ka lima, hele no ka maka. Where the hands move, there let the eyes follow.

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When one wants to dance the hula, bashfulness should be left at home. 

Live with passion.  Do not fear change – embrace it!

Our actions are less kind and less vicious than our desires . Karl Kraus

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“Gods prefer simple, vicious games, where you Do Not Achieve Transcendence but Go Straight To Oblivion; a key to the understanding of all religion is that a god’s idea of amusement is Snakes and Ladders with greased rungs.”

― Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

Stroke the churl, and he will scratch you, Strike him, and he will come to your hand. — Gaelic.

He that handles a nettle tenderly is soonest stung. — E. If you gently touch a nettle. It will sting you for your pains ; Grasp it like a man of mettle, . It as soft as silk remains.

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Now I am in the public house and lean upon the wall,

So come in rags or come in silk,

in cloak or country shawl,

And come with learned lovers or with what men you may

For I can put the whole lot down,

and all I have to say

Is fol de rol de rolly O.

[William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish

“Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.” ― Pablo Picasso

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The Painter


Sitting between the sea and the buildings
He enjoyed painting the sea’s portrait.
But just as children imagine a prayer
Is merely silence, he expected his subject
To rush up the sand, and, seizing a brush,
Plaster its own portrait on the canvas.
So there was never any paint on his canvas
Until the people who lived in the buildings
Put him to work: “Try using the brush
As a means to an end. Select, for a portrait,
Something less angry and large, and more subject
To a painter’s moods, or, perhaps, to a prayer.”

Speak like a parrot; meditate like a swan; chew like a goat; and bathe like an elephant. Indian

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Parrots by Judith Wright

Loquats are cold as winter suns.

Among rough leaves their clusters glow

like oval beads of cloudy amber,

or small fat flames of birthday candles.

Parrots, when the winter dwindles

their forest fruits and seeds, remember

where the swelling loquats grow,

how chill and sweet their thin juice runs,

and shivering in the morning cold

we draw the curtains back and see

the lovely greed of their descending,

the lilt of flight that blurs their glories,

and warm our eyes upon the lories

and the rainbow-parrots landing.

There’s not a fruit on any tree

to match their crimson, green and gold.

To see them cling and sip and sway,

loquats are no great price to pay.

Good things come to those who wade.

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A man began to eat his order of fish, and the ghost of the fish arose and spoke. Forgive me, it said, please hear me. I died in despair, which is, as you know, the worst of the deadly sins. As I slowly suffocated in the alien air, I gave up hope of salvation, and so died without the consolation of religion. In your compassion and mercy, have a Mass said for me, and pray for my soul. With that, the ghost of the fish vanished, and the man, congratulating himself on possessing the carcass of such a remorseful creature, tucked in.

Michael Sharkey, “Eating Sin”

When young “sow wild oats,” but when old, grow sage.

H. J. Byron, An Adage
The gardener’s rule applies to youth and age:

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The Grass-Cutter  TRACEY RYAN

Jay says Everyone here just uses spray, the “quick”

solution, compounding the problem, for everyone


also drinks from bores and tanks and no one

thinks of the consequence and so he’s out there,


my husband, in that crazed casing, razing the dry wild oats,

making us fit as he can for the feared fire season


that is always to come, doing it hard, meeting each

stalk the same way God reportedly counts each hair


of your head, each sparrow that falls, alive to this patch

of six acres as only such work can make you, all he can do.

Life is a bridge. Cross over it, but build no house on it. Indian.

gleniffer bridge at the promised land near bellingen 2008

He stood on the bridge at midnight,

Disturbing my sweet repose,

For “he” was a great big mosquito,

And “the bridge” was the bridge of my nose.

West Coast Sentinel (Streaky Bay, SA  6 March 1931

When thine enemy retreateth, make him a golden bridge
For a flying enemy make a silver bridge

Somehow the killing of a giant spider, all alone by himself in the dark without the help of a wizard or the dwarves or anyone else, made a great difference to Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of an empty stomach as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath.

 Tolkien – The Hobbit

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Richardson has tiff, a drink, which he thinks a corruption of tipple, an allied word ; Ash defines tiff to be a corruption of the Teutonic tepel, a dug or teat, while the ancient author of “Gazophylacium Anglicanum ” surpasses all his predecessors and successors in ingenuity by deriving tipsy and tipple from the Latin tipula, a water-spider, because that in- sect is always drinking ! Mr. Halliwell, without entering on the etymological question, says that in English provincial dialects tiff has three meanings small beer, a draught of any liquor, and to fall headlong from the effects of drink.

Let every one sweep before his own door.



I have loved the broom I took into my hands
and crossed the threshold to begin again,
whose straw I wore to nothing,
whose shaft I could use to straighten a tree, or break
across my knee to kindle the first winter fire,
or use to stir the fire

Well as giraffes say, you don’t get no leaves unless you stick your neck out. (Sid Waddell)

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Its nose is long, its teeth are big, 
for  tearing leaves , on which to feast „ 
Its horns are like round rubber stamps; 
a haughty, bureaucratic beasts 

The ancients found it very strange 
and called it the camelopard; 
indeed, to, spot it among trees, 
can often prove extremely hard. 

It has a useful turn of speed 
when chased by lions across the veldt 
and, with its lanky legs, can give 
pursuing predators a belt. 

But the giraffe is at a loss 
at water-holes because, to sup 
it nearly has to do the splits; 
an awkward case of bottoms up.' 

“If you can not arrive in daylight, then stand off well clear, and wait until dawn. After all, that’s one of the things God made boats for- to wait in.” -Tristan Jones

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In this life, I’ve made note,
Of four types in life’s rowboat,
Those who do,
And those who don’t,
Those who can’t,
And those who won’t.

Those who do,
Tend to see things through,
From start until fruition,
They row and row and row the boat,
They toil through all condition.

Those who don’t,
Act like they will, but won’t,
And blame others for their lot,
Seeming experts at the rowing,
But lift oar, they will not.

Those who can’t,
Struggle and try,
They fight with limitations,
Even though they can’t row,
They help with navigations.

Those who won’t,
Oft’ procrastinate, or wait too late,
Choosing simply not to row,
Sitting like helpless victims,
As boat’s tossed to and fro.

So do your part,
Navigate, steer, or row,
It takes all to remain afloat,
So drop the sinking attitudes,
And help us row our boat.…-by-Leo-Thomas

© Lee Thomas. All rights reserved

“Fear prophets, Adso, and those prepared to die for the truth, for as a rule they make many others die with them, often before them, at times instead of them.” Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

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“Anyway, if you stop tellin’ people it’s all sorted out after they’re dead, they might try sorting it all out while they’re alive. ”

― Terry Pratchett, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch