“Call a jack a jack. Call a spade a spade. But always call a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite.”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
MAKING A GARDEN
‘Tis time to go with spade and hoe
Into the yard to toil.
The shattered sash and other trash
Help fertilise the soil.
The broken glass which we amass
Ere springtime makes its bow
Will come in fine, as I opine.
For good top dressing now.
1912 ‘MAKING A GARDEN.’, Camperdown Chronicle (Vic. : 1877 – 1954), 13 August, p. 5 Supplement: Unknown, viewed 25 February, 2014, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article26122726
空手把鉏頭 Empty-handed I go and yet the spade is in my hands;
The Richmond River Herald and Northern Districts Advertiser (NSW : 1886 – 1942), Friday 29 June 1934
“Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries-stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded forever.”
– Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Fear less, hope more; Whine less, breathe more; Talk less, say more; Hate less, love more; And all good things are yours. ~Swedish proverb
Read more: http://www.gadel.info/2011/08/love-quotes-love-sayings-love-poems-and.html#ixzz2ph7WksAn
foto saffron in bellingen nsw australia
Nightfall, Dalat, Vietnam
Dusk slides down the gullet,
is devoured whole
by the mouth of transience,
does not exist:
the day, requited,
is clasped by ebony fingers,
surrenders smooth to waiting dark.
As I come down the hill from Toro Poutini’s house
My feet are sore, being bare, on the sharp stones
And that is a suitable penance. The dust of the pa road
Is cool, though, and I can see
The axe of the moon shift down behind the trees
Very slowly. The red light from the windows
Of the church has a ghostly look, and in
This place ghosts are real. The bees are humming loudly
In moonlight in their old hive above the church door
Where I go to kneel, and come out to make my way
Uphill past a startled horse who plunges in the paddock
Above the nunnery. Now there are one or two
Of the tribe back in the big house—What would you have me do,
Kind Jesus? Your games with me have turned me into a boulder.
“Who would deduce the dragonfly from the larva, the iris from the bud, the lawyer from the infant? …We are all shape-shifters and magical reinventors. Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves.”
― Diane Ackerman
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest
I believe that in our constant search for security we can never gain any peace of mind until we are secure in our own soul.
– Margaret Chase Smith
Thich Nhat Hanh
“The day wore on, and all these bright colours subsided, and assumed a quieter tint, like young hopes softened down by time, or youthful features by degrees resolving into the calm and serenity of age. But they were scarcely less beautiful in their slow decline, than they had been in their prime; for nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy, that we can scarcely mark their progress.”
― Charles Dickens
― L.M. Montgomery
Many live in dread of what is coming. Why should we? The unknown puts adventure into life. … The unexpected around the corner gives a sense of anticipation and surprise. Thank God for the unknown future.
She had the loaded handbag of someone who camps out and seldom goes home, or who imagines life must be full of emergencies.
“Once you make a journey to a near impossible destination, you get to realize how everything and anything is possible”
― Luthfy Es-Haq
"Proverbs in porcelain, and other verses"
Today my thoughts are centred on expecting only the best
and giving only the best.
http://users.sa.chariot.net.au/~kday/thoughtsandpoems.html#Today is My Day
foto – corral at raleigh 2010
“I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.”
foto – new baby 2010