Category Archives: DEFECTS

“In his heart, hope—that indestructible weed of the human heart—had begun to bloom again.” ― Stephen King, The Stand

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But a weed is simply a plant that wants to grow where people want something else.  In blaming nature, people mistake the culprit.  Weeds are people’s idea, not nature’s.

http://www.quotegarden.com/weeds.html

“Wisdom cannot be stolen – it can only be shared.” ― Jefferson Smith, Strange Places

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The man who is admired for the ingenuity of his larceny is almost always rediscovering some earlier form of fraud. The basic forms are all known, have all been practicised. The manners of capitalism improve. The morals may not.

John Kenneth Galbraith (b. 1908)

“I don’t need a cloak to become invisible.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

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no veil of false excuses, or artful cloaking and colouring of our faults, will disguise from us our true state, if only we never neglect to consult this mirror in sincerity and with earnest prayer.

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

Some people might call them cherubs, although there was nothing rosy-cheeked about them.

They might be rumoured among those who see to it that gravity operates and that time stays separate from space. Call them auditors. Auditors of reality.

TERRY PRATCHETT

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“Cherubs fan our foolish fires, filling hearts with mad desires. They prick our pride and haughtiness with quick, angelic naughtiness.”
John Biccard

(The one who enters a Turkish bath sweats.)

Used to point out that one’s actions determine the consequences and therefore one should not complain about them later.0 illustratedcatal1883muse_0193

Güneş balçıkla sıvanmaz.
o Literal translation: Sun cannot be daubed using wet clay.
o Meaning: One cannot conceal something very obvious whatever they try.

Luck will carry a man across the brook if he is not too lazy to leap. Dan.

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“There is no more sagacious animal than the Icelandic horse. He is stopped by neither snow, nor storm, nor impassable roads, nor rocks, glaciers, or anything. He is courageous, sober, and surefooted. He never makes a false step, never shies. If there is a river or fjord to cross (and we shall meet with many) you will see him plunge in at once, just as if he were amphibious, and gain the opposite bank.”

Jules Verne, Journey to the Center of the Earth

Fowl gwine fat im begin fram him toe __ Adult behaviours begin in childhood

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A feast uncovers a European’s wooden leg. N.B. —

Didime is a feast of course followed by a ” big drink,” which — “in vino Veritas” — makes people forget self-respect, and exposes defects which are usually concealed.

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Isinama ndokunamatela. I, the adhesive grass, will stick fast to you.

The isinama is a kind of grass that sticks to one’s clothing when it is touched, and can hardly be brushed off afterwards. This proverb is used as a warning to any one to avoid a bad habit or an unworthy companion that cannot easily be got rid of.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/xft/xft27.htm

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Mount Warning

It was the mountain
I was always going to climb —
Swore that heat would not tire me,
Flowers and snakes could not
Poison my hands or feet:
Butcher-birds and crows become
Omens of good fortune, guides
To an undergrowth track.

Spurred on by the sight
Of the mountain, hill after hill
I climbed for a vantage point:
Felt the ice of a willow’s breath,
Touched the fire that does not burn
In a flame-tree’s midday leaves.

Its summits clouded in mist
Or the end-of-spring fires,
I walked through ploughed fields
To its foot-hills, chewed
Grass and swallowed rain-water,
Gauging its height from burnt-out stumps.
Cattle followed like a scattered procession,
Pausing at the creek.
I returned home
By a different path — plagued by
Its shape and my hesitation.

Under the cover of sunset
I opened my door to its shadow —
Abysmal at the threshold!
Prayed that winds and rain
Might wash it backwards, into
The desert overnight.

Talking to people, trailing
Mullet and catfish,
Searching creek-banks for rainbow-birds
And tortoises — day and night
The mountain haunted me
Like a dying parent’s curse.

It became the wish
I never made—the child I never had,
Promise I was not to keep,
Bible I should never open:
Tomorrow’s mountain, always there,
To be climbed without loss and fear.

Unsifted by memory for the shallows of a dream
I left the mountain like gold in a stream.

Peter Skrzynecki