Tag Archives: sydney morning herald

To pick a flower is so much more satisfying than just observing it, or photographing it … So in later years, I have grown in my garden as many flowers as possible for children to pick. Anne Scott-James

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“Every child is born a naturalist. His eyes are, by nature, open to the glories of the stars, the beauty of the flowers, and the mystery of life.”  
–  R. Search 

https://www.gardendigest.com/flowers.htm

 

 

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 24 December 1927

1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 24 December 1927

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I see a lilly on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery’s child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

John Keats

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Golden Wattle

Golden Wattle, fairy stuff
Little balls of yellow fluff
Hear the bees how loud they hum
To say they’re glad that Spring is come

When the stars begin to peep
Then the wattle falls asleep
Like a tired child in bed
It droops its pretty curly head

Anon.

(Song contributed by Mrs Jenny Sayer, who copied it out of her Headmistress’ Assembly Book (Miss Leslie Bridle) at Sans Souci Public School in 195

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Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. : 1909 – 1954), Monday 27 April 1953,

1 1 1 1 1 Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. - 1909 - 1954), Monday 27 April 1953,

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A Mother’s Parable by Temple Baily

The young mother set her foot on the path of Life. “Is the way long?” she asked. And her Guide said, “Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning.”

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed with them in the streams, and the sun shone on them, and life was good, and the young mother cried, “Nothing will ever be lovelier than this.”

http://www.shiva.com/learning-center/resources/poems-of-comfort/

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. T. S. Eliot.

 

 

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 17 December 1927

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 17 December 1927

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Goldsworthy, Peter

Fin and scale, sand and shale,

From seagrass plait my hair,

Conch and coral shape my ears.

Of driftwood, my bleached bones.

Fin and scale, sand and shale

It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.

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“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.”
― Rumi

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

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

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C.J. DENNIS

The Dawn Dance

What do you think I saw to-day when I arose at dawn?
Blue Wrens and Yellow-tails dancing on the lawn!
Bobbing here, bowing there, gossiping away,
And how I wished that you were there to see the merry play!

But you were snug abed, my boy, blankets to your chin,
Nor dreamed of dancing birds without or sunbeams dancing in.
Grey Thrush, he piped the tune for them. I peeped out through the glass
Between the window curtains, and I saw them on the grass —

Merry little fairy folk, dancing up and down,
Blue bonnet, yellow skirt, cloaks of grey and brown,
Underneath the wattle-tree, silver in the dawn,
Blue Wrens and Yellow-tails dancing on the lawn.

It is the patient building of character, the intense struggle to realise the truth, which alone will tell in the future of humanity.

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 1 April 1933,

1 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 1 April 1933,

 

God is merciful to those whom He sees struggling heart and soul for realization. But remain idle, without any struggle, and you will see that His grace will never come.

http://vivekananda.org/quotes.aspx

Words are like the spider’s web: a shelter for the clever ones and a trap for the not-so-clever. Madagascar

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 25 May 1935

1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 25 May 1935

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A spider’s cobweb isn’t only its sleeping spring but also its food trap.   African

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 11 June 1927,

1 1 1 1  The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 11 June 1927,

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The problem with finding the easiest way, is that the
enemy already booby trapped it.

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A smile is the best way to deal with difficult situations. Even if it’s a fake one. Used properly, you can fool anyone with it. Sai

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The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 8 October 1927

1 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 8 October 1927

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Seduce my mind, ensnare my heart, capture my soul, and my body is yours completely.

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Never make anything simple and efficient when a way can be found to make it complex and wonderful.

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Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. : 1909 – 1954), Monday 7 October 1946,

1 1 1 1 1 1 Queensland Times (Ipswich) (Qld. - 1909 - 1954), Monday 7 October 1946,

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Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order and lends to all that is good and just and beautiful. Plato

 

May music charm me last on earth, and greet me first in heaven.1 1 1 1 1 1 f2ilmfun334345lesl_0164

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Thursday 14 March 1935,

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Thursday 14 March 1935,

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0, lizard, if you ent’er the water you will become a crocodile.

As if one said to a man, " Yes, go on, you can do it," 
knowing well that he cannot. To egg him on.

1 1 1 1 1 1 adventuresalices00carrrich_01011 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 25 March 1933

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 25 March 1933

1 1 1 1 1 1 adventuresalices00carrrich_01012Good intentions.

The lizard, when it feels cold at night, says to itself 
" to-morrow I will find a smouldering tree to 
sleep in so that I shall be warm." Next day 
when it basks in the sun it forgets and does not 
do it ; the consequence is that it feels cold again 
next night.

http://archive.org/stream/hausaproverbs00merrrich/hausaproverbs00merrrich_djvu.txt

 

Even the lion has to defend himself against flies.

 

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 1 December 1928

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The Fire of Life: Stay and Defend

The time has now come for all of us to choose – wherever we are, wherever ‘home’ is for us, whatever our fears, whatever our tasks. We are each asked to be responsible. The fire is upon us. Nay – we are already ablaze. Will we choose to flee? Will we choose to stay, unprepared, a burden to others? Or will we stay and actively defend, becoming fire, and putting ourselves in service of that which needs to be done in world evolution?

http://socialpoetry.net/2014/01/16/the-fire-of-life-stay-and-defend/

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What are men to rocks and mountains ? ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 16 July 1932,

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 16 July 1932,

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written by the very alcoholic Australian Poet Henry Kendall

Bellbirds

    By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,

 

    And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling:

 

    It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges

 

    Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges.

 

    Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers

 

    Struggles the light that is love to the flowers;

 

    And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,

 

    The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.

The silver-voiced bell birds, the darlings of daytime!
They sing in September their songs of the May-time;
When shadows wax strong, and the thunder bolts hurtle,
They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle;
When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together,
They start up like fairies that follow fair weather;
And straightway the hues of their feathers unfolden
Are the green and the purple, the blue and the golden.

October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses,
Loiters for love in these cool wildernesses;
Loiters, knee-deep, in the grasses, to listen,
Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten:
Then is the time when the water-moons splendid
Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended
Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning
Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the Morning.

Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers
Are the voices of bell-birds to the thirsty far-comers.
When fiery December sets foot in the forest,
And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest,
Pent in the ridges for ever and ever
The bell-birds direct him to spring and to river,
With ring and with ripple, like runnels who torrents
Are toned by the pebbles and the leaves in the currents.

Often I sit, looking back to a childhood,
Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood,
Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion,
Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of Passion; –
Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters
Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest-rafters;
So I might keep in the city and alleys
The beauty and strength of the deep mountain valleys:
Charming to slumber the pain of my losses
With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses.

 

 

“I’m bipolar: I like penguins and polar bears.”

 

 

http://www.gdargaud.net/Humor/QuotesPolar.html1 1 anecdotesofanima00billiala_0019

The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 6 February 1926

1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW 1842 - 1954), Saturday 6 February 1926

“There’s a Polar Bear
In our Frigidaire–
He likes it ’cause it’s cold in there.
With his seat in the meat
And his face in the fish
And his big hairy paws
In the buttery dish,
He’s nibbling the noodles,
And munching the rice,
He’s slurping the soda,
He’s licking the ice.
And he lets out a roar
If you open the door.
And it gives me a scare
To know he’s in there–
That Polary Bear
In our Fridgitydaire.”

― Shel Silverstein, A Light in the Attic