I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who endowed us with
sense, reason, and intellect, had intended for us to forgo their use.
---Galileo
My niece Bella
Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clements
You owe me five farthings
Say the bells of St Martins
When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich
Say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney
I'm sure I don't know
Says the great bell at Bow
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
Here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
--English Rhyme (Unknown)
When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the centre of your soul for years, which you have, all the time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till will have faces?--C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
It requires productive activity to give life to the emotional and intellectual potentialities of man, to give birth to his self. It is part of the tragedy of the human situation that the development of the self is never completed; even under the best conditions only part of man’s potentialities is realized. Man always dies before he is fully born. --Erich Fromm, Man for Himself
One of the basic things which I was a long time in realizing, and which I am still learning, is that when an activity feels as though it is valuable or worth doing, it is worth doing. Put another way, I have learned that my total organismic sensing of a situation is more trustworthy than my intellect. All of my professional life I have been going in directions which others thought were foolish, and about which I have had many doubts myself. But I have never regretted moving in directions which 'felt right,' even though I have often felt lonely or foolish at the time. Experience is, for me, the highest authority. Neither the Bible nor the prophets--neither Freud nor research--neither the revelations of God nor man--can take precedence over my own experience. --Carl Rogers
Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you.
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.
Your sons hasten back, and those who laid you waste depart from you. Isaiah 49:15-17
[Earth from 4 billion miles away--see below a pic--it is 1 pixel by chance suspended in a light beam of the sun]...The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors, so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. -- Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space
Applause! Applause! No, wait wait...
Dear studio audience,
I've an announcement to make.
It seems the artists these days are not who you think.
So we'll pick back up on that on another page
--Panic! at The Disco, The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage
I do not like to work with patients who are in love. Perhaps it is because of envyI too, crave enchantment. Perhaps it is because love and psychotherapy are fundamentally incompatible. The good therapist fights darkness and seeks illumination, while romantic love is sustained by mystery and crumbles upon inspection. I hate to be love's executioner. --Irvin Yalom, Love's Executioner
Writers dont make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we dont work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmucks book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another mans stupid words. And for this, as I said before, we are paid a dollar. --Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz
Never give a girl your number, always take hers. Keeps you in control.
No American cars. German, Italian or the occasional English.
Treat yourself to a barber shop shave once a month.
Take a beautiful girl to Florence, eat at the Enoteca. Talk to Marino, he'll take care of you.
Tell him you're my son.
Don't take any crap off anyone, you're better than that.
But, try to be good to people. Never get too jaded to care.
Remember me.
--Christian Troy, Saying goodbye to Wilbur
Its just a dirty trick. ...They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time they caught you off base they killed you
--Hemingway, A Farwell to Arms
(and only the snow can begin to explain ---
how children are apt to forget to remember ---
with up so floating many bells down) ---one day anyone died i guess ---(and noone stooped to kiss his face) ---busy folk buried them side by side ---little by little and was by was ---all by all and deep by deep ---and more by more they dream their sleep ---noone and anyone
earth by april --- wish by spirit and if by yes. ---Women and men (both dong and ding) ---summer autumn winter spring ---reaped their sowing and went their came ---sun moon stars rain--E.E. Cummings
The bell jar hung, suspended, a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air. "It was like I told you it would be, wasn't it?" --Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
CLAUDIA: Which one of you did it, which one of you did it, which one of you made me the way I am?
LESTAT: What you are, a vampire gone insane that pollutes its own bed!
CLAUDIA: And If I cut my hair again?
LESTAT: It will grow back again.
CLAUDIA: But it wasn't always so. I had a mother once, and Louis, he had a wife. He was a mortal, the same as she, and so was I!
LOUIS: Claudia!
CLAUDIA: You made us what we are didn't you? (She turns on Lestat.)
LESTAT: Stop her Louis.
CLAUDIA: Did you do it to me? (She runs at him with the scissors, scoring his face. The cut heals. She scores it again. It heals again. She stares at him in horror.)
CLAUDIA: (whispering) How did you do it?
LESTAT: Why should I tell you? It's in my power.
CLAUDIA: Why yours alone. Tell me how it was done.
LESTAT: Be glad I made you what you are. You'd be dead now if I hadn't, like that damned corpse. Now get rid of it.
CLAUDIA: You get rid of it. --Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire (the movie; text from the book is too long)
Harold DOBBS!
I really don't need this, Claire. I'm fine, you know. I'm totally fine.
And then you show up here with these questions. Like, "Are you OK?"
with that soothing tone of voice. And...Oh, the poor policemen.
I think the policemen can handle themselves!
And bagels and bananas and jojoba, And "Come to New York!"
And VEGETARIAN CHILI!?
I mean, it really pisses me off, so just save it.
Sayward:
