Category Archives: VISION

Beautiful is not what is beautiful, but what one likes

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It’s good to behold beauty and to live with wisdom.

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“Life-ahead is timeless fortune.” ― Lailah Gifty Akita

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A Gypsy (Fortune Teller) By Meena Mustafa – Poem by Meena Mustafa

A room I entered of fortune and dreams

A mystic world, now it seems

Hoping to find answers, I followed my heart

A gypsy woman to read my stars

She lay before me some scattered bones

And talked about ruins and magic stones

Then she gazed into the crystal ball

Getting some answers to her call

A vision of a dream, started to form

Shaping into reality as she performed

‘Teller of fortune, holder of hearts’

‘Tell me what lies beneath the cards’

She got some answers as mystery unfolds

Fear not for I see your heart is of gold

Good days are ahead so just behold!

You will find answers that I was told

The sky is your fortune; you’ll find your way

Forget your sorrows and dream each day

Smell the flowers that bloom in the fields

So many broken hearts have healed

So fear no more and open up your heart

To a new beginning all from the start.

Meena Mustafa

Charity begins at hame, but shouldna end there.

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The presence of a noble nature, generous in its wishes, ardent in its charity, changes the lights for us: we begin to see things again in their larger, quieter masses, and to believe that we too can be seen and judged in the wholeness of our character.

[George Eliot [Mary Ann (or Marian) Evans] (1819-1880), British

Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse while all the others were making ships. Charles Simic

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Nanny Ogg’s voyages on the sea of intersexual dalliance had gone rather further than twice around the lighthouse, […]”

A popular way of staving off boredom at typical British seaside holiday resorts is to take a trip in a small boat, which will often journey out as far as the local lighthouse and circumnavigate it. Hence the above colloquialism, implying that Nanny’s experiences were not limited to the inshore waters of male/female relationships.

http://www.au.lspace.org/books/apf/witches-abroad.html

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

To learn a language is to have one more window from which to look at the world.

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* It is wrong to judge by appearances. Despite his expression, which was that of a piglet having a bright idea, and his mode of speech, which might put you in mind of a small, breathless, neurotic but ridiculously expensive dog, Mr Horsefry might well have been a kind, generous and pious man. In the same way, the man climbing out of your window in a stripy jumper, a mask and a great hurry might merely be lost on the way to a fancy-dress party, and the man in the wig and robes at the focus of the courtroom might only be a transvestite who wandered in out of the rain. Snap judgements can be so unfair.”
― Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lampposts, for support rather than illumination. – Andrew Lang, a gentle needle

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When asked why he went about with a lamp in broad daylight, Diogenes confessed, “I am looking for an honest man.” Seeing a young man blush, he remarked that it was the complexion of virtue.

In order to see birds it is necessary to become a part of the silence.” ― Robert Lynd

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I saw a navy blue bird

flying way above the sea

I walked on & I learned later

that this navy blue bird was me

I returned a paler blue bird

and this is the advice they gave me

“you must not try to be too pure

you must fly closer to the sea”

 Sinead O’Connor in “I do not want what I haven’t got”

http://www.astrolog.org/home/quotes.htm

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You thought, as a boy, that a mage is one who can do anything. So I thought once. So did we all. And the truth is at as a man’s real power grows and his knowledge widens, ever the way he can follow grows narrower: until at last he chooses nothing, but does only and wholly what he must do.

– Ursula K. LeGuin

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He tangata takahi manuhiri, he marae puehu

 

 

 

A person who mistreats his guest has a dusty Marae (Meeting house)

 

Someone who disregards his visitors will soon find he has no visitors at all. This accentuates the importance of Manaakitanga, or hospitality with Maori society and culture.

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

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Our Visitor

Barcroft Henry Boake (1866-1892)

Australian writer

There’s a fellow on the station
(He dropped in on a call,
Just casual – to stay a pleasant week),
He’s a banker’s near relation,
Strongly built, and very tall,
Not altogether destitute of cheek;
He’s a descent judge of whisky,
And the hardest working youth
Who ever played a polo on a cob;
His anecdotes are risky,
And to tell the honest truth,
He’s waiting here until he gets a job.

He’s waiting, as I mention,
And whene’er he says his prayers,
Which he doesn’t do as frequently as some,
And I fear that his intention
Isn’t quite so good as theirs –
For he prays to God the work may never come.
He marches with the banner
Of the noble unemployed,
He mixes with the fashionable mob,
But while he’s got a tanner
He scorns to be decoyed
Where there’s any chance he may get a job.

He’s an excellent musician,
And the song that suits him best,
“Old Stumpy” is a masterpiece of art;
’Tis a splendid composition
As he chucks it off his chest,
Though there’s something of a hitch about the start.
He’s an artist, too, in colours
For he painted up the boat.
You wonder – but he did, so help me bob,
And all the champion scullers,
When once he gets afloat,
Couldn’t catch him – if they offered him a job.

He’s very unpretending,
Most affable and kind,
He’ll take a whisky any time it suits;
Extremely condescending,
He really does not mind,
He’ll even, when it’s muddy, wear your boots.
Some think he isn’t clever,
But it’s my distinct belief
That there’s much more than they fancy in his nob.
But he’s travelling on the “never”
And will surely die of grief
On the day when he’s compelled to take a job.

http://alldownunder.com/australian-authors/barcroft-henry-boake/our-visitor.htm

 

Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”  ― Mark Twain

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Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of toast and tea

T.S. Eliot

http://gardenpartyteas.com/blog/tea-poems-and-quotes/

Cats are like music. It’s foolish to try to explain their worth to those who don’t appreciate them.

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Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals; cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind, the loveliness that drapes you purest thoughts, for out of them will grow delightful conditions, all heavenly environment; of these if you but remain true to them, your world will at last be built.

James Allen

I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.” ― E.B. White, The Points Of My Compass

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toasted the hangover
inevitable as sun
that used to rise
in your name

i toasted the carnivals
we never went to
and the things you never won
for me
the ferris wheels we never
kissed on and all the dreams
between us
that sat there
like balloons on a carney’s board
waiting to explode with passion
but slowly deflated
hung slave
under the pin-
prick of a tack

hung
heads down
like lovers
when it doesn’t
work, like me
at last call
after too many cheap

too many sweet
too much
whisky makes me
sick, like the smell of cheap,

like the smell of
the dead

― Daphne Gottlieb, Final Girl

A very great vision is needed and the man who has it must follow it as the eagle seeks the deepest blue of the sky. Crazy Horse

 

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ALI COBBY ECKERMANN

In ‘Cloud Storm’ the poet shows us ‘the cloud skin’ of ‘the oldest wedgetail in the world’ with a ‘string of men … resting on the eagles wing’, a mythological context that makes sense of the world in which people often ‘sit broken together’ and ‘darkness waits’

http://www.emsah.uq.edu.au/awsr/new_site/awbr_archive/147/Cobby.htm

Take me where the fishes swim and shimmer in and out of vision

PAUL KELLY

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/paulkelly/theprettyplace.html

 

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LUCY HOLT

Noon Swim

 

extract 

 

At the river’s swollen joint we dived in,

suddenly light and jointless

as our six feet mixed the warmed crust of water

with the icy below.

The frangipani I had tucked behind my ear

was presumed drowned until it resurfaced between us

as a beautiful relic.

Matchstick-sized

skinks darted at our every scream as if

powered by sound.

http://redroomcompany.org/poem/lucy-k-holt/noon-swim/

If you sit by a river long enough, you’ll see the body of your enemy float by.

http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=571777

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“At first, I saw mountains as mountains and rivers as rivers. Then, I saw mountains were not mountains and rivers were not rivers. Finally, I see mountains again as mountains, and rivers again as rivers.”

http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Talk:Zen_proverbs

He that waits long at the ferry Will get across sometime

http://www.smo.uhi.ac.uk/gaidhlig/corpus/seanfhaclan/MacDonald.html

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“And I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And I will drink the clear
Clean water for to quench my thirst
And I shall watch the ferry-boats
And they’ll get high
On a bluer ocean
Against tomorrow’s sky
And I will never grow so old again
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain

― Van Morrison

You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart.”

― W.H. Auden

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We have been happily borne—or perhaps have unhappily
dragged our weary way—down the long and crooked streets of
our lives, past all kinds of walls and fences made of rotting wood,
rammed earth, brick, concrete, iron railings. We have never given
a thought to what lies behind them. We have never tried to pene­trate them with our vision or our understanding.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago, 1918-1956: An Experiment in Literary Investigation V-VII

After us they’ll fly in hot air balloons, coat styles will change, perhaps they’ll discover a sixth sense and cultivate it, but li fe will remain the same, a hard life full of secrets, but happy. And a thousand years from now man will still be sighing, “Oh! Life is so hard!” and will still, like now, be afraid of death and not want to die

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

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“who knows if the moon’s
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky–filled with pretty people?
( and if you and I should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we’d go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody’s ever visited,where

always
it’s
Spring)and everyone’s
in love and flowers pick themselves”

― E.E. Cummings, Collected Poems

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.”

― Emily Brontë

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/here-there-and-everywhere/201211/50-quotes-pride

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“You are dark, even as the flints are. You must come to violent conflicts and make a noise in order to produce your sparks. But their disconnected flashes merely assist your pride, and not your clear vision.”

 
― Rabindranath Tagore, The Home and the World