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- Page 95
Music is heard in the background. As the movemnt becomes sharper; the many dancers acting but as one. She is one with her secret. As the time draws near, the woman's body begins to push. With the rhythm of the music and the beat of the dancer's feet; her secret almost revealed.
Lisa C. Miller
If your inner silence begins to wear a silk fruit; only then, the day will reveal to you its hidden secret.
Kristian Goldmund Aumann
She begins, “What is the question we spend our entire lives asking?” and answers, “Our question is this: Are we loved? I don’t mean by one another.” She closes her sermon to the snakes with these words: “I am like you, curious and small. Like you, I pause alertly and open my senses to try to read the air, the clouds, the sun’s slant, the little movements of the animals, all in the hope I will learn the secret of whether I am loved.
Pat Schneider
You must suffer me to go my own dark way.
Robert Louis Stevenson
there's a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I'm too clever, I only let him outat night sometimeswhen everybody's asleep.I say, I know that you're there,so don't besad.then I put him back,but he's singing a littlein there, I haven't quite let himdieand we sleep together likethatwith oursecret pactand it's nice enough tomake a manweep, but I don'tweep, doyou?
Charles Bukowski
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
William Shakespeare
When my female friends are leftBy horrid spouses and lovers,I commiserate. I send gifts-Powwow songs and poems- and wonderWhy my gorgeous friends cannot findSomeone who knows them as I do.Is the whole world dead and blind?I tell my friends, “I’d marry youTomorrow.” I think I’m engagedTo thirty-six women, my harem:Platonic, bookish, and enraged.I love them! But it would scare them-No, of course, they already knowThat I can be just one more boy,A toy warrior who explodesInto silence and warpaths with joy.
Sherman Alexie
We fool ourselvesinto thinkingwe’re strongthen complainthe rest of our livescrippled bythe consequences.
Barry Gifford
Breathe in that vital connection to the life source and sensual beauty everywhere. Feel loved and strong.
Jay Woodman
The uneducated person perceives only the individual phenomenon, the partly educated person the rule, and the educated person the exception.
Franz Grillparzer
Every uneducated person is a caricature of himself.
Karl Friedrich Schlegel
Many people are trying hard to be invincible, and most of the time they fail invisible, while few find their spotlight. But the remarkable person is one, who can be both invincible and invisible at the same time.
Anthony Liccione
This is the man who thinks too much, who stands back from his life and never lives it. He is caught in a web of pros and cons about his decisions and lost in a labyrinth of reflective meanderings from which he cannot extricate himself. He is afraid to live, to ‘leap into battle.’ He can only sit on his rock and think. The years pass. He wonders where the time has gone. And he ends by regretting a life of sterility. He is a voyeur, an armchair adventurer. In the world of academia, he is a hairsplitter. In the fear of making the wrong decision, he makes none. In his fear of living, he also cannot participate in the joy and pleasure that other people experience in their lived lives. If he is withholding from others, and not sharing what he knows, he eventually feels isolated and lonely. To the extent that he has hurt others with his knowledge and technology—in whatever field and in whatever way—by cutting himself off from living relatedness with other human beings, he has cut off his own soul.” Refering the the dark magician energy.
Robert Moore
All knowledge that takes special training to acquire is the province of the Magician energy. Whether you are an apprentice training to become a master electrician and unraveling the mysteries of high voltage; or a medical student, grinding away night and day, studying the secrets of the human body and using available technologies to help your patients; or a would-be stockbroker or a student of high finance; or a trainee in one of the psychoanalytic schools, you are in exactly the same position as the apprentice shaman or witch doctor in tribal societies. You are spending large amounts of time, energy, and money in order to be initiated into rarefied realms of secret power. You are undergoing an ordeal testing your capacities to become a master of this power. And, as is true in all initiations, there is no guarantee of success. [Magician energy]
Robert Moore
I was a man fifteen years older than she, you understand. I had reached that stage in life where I identified with cynical villains in a book.
Michael Ondaatje
Never does a person feel so wise, so mature and so adult as when she is not.
Pia Juul
MaturityA stationary sense . . . as, I suppose,I shall have, till my single body grows Inaccurate, tired;Then I shall start to feel the backward pullTake over, sickening and masterful — Some say, de
Philip Larkin
It's funny: one starts off thinking one is shrinkingly sensitive & intelligent & always one down & all the rest of it: then at thirty one finds one is a great clumping brute, incapable of appreciating anything finer than a kiss or a kick, roaring our one's hypocrisies at the top of one's voice, thick skinned as a rhino. At least I do.
Philip Larkin
All creatures must learn that there exist predators. Without this knowing, a woman will be unable to negotiate safely within her own forest without being devoured. To understand the predator is to become a mature animal who is not vulnerable out of naivete, inexperience, or foolishness.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
One who has passed the thirtieth yearalready is as good as dead--it would be best to kill you off by then.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
There is a wicked and pervading arrogance loose on the earth, like a rabid beast, an overdog. Does it run, does it slouch, does its name have a number? The beast preaches contempt, for that's what arrogance says: that nothing is real but itself, and the bone and blood of another's being are insubstantial as breath.
Kelly Cherry
But I don't know, in the end, what deserts, chasms, achievements, virtues, and beauties have to do with love. We can love for so many different, and paradoxical, qualities in the object of our love--for strength or for weakness, for beauty or for ugliness, for gaiety or for sadness, for sweetness or for bitterness, for goodness or for wickedness, for need or for impervious independence. Then, if we wonder from what secret springs in ourselves gushes our love, our poor brain goes giddy from speculation, and we wonder what is all meaning and worth. Is it our own need that makes us lean toward and wish to succor need, or is it our strength? What way would our strength, if we had it, incline our heart? Do we give love in order to receive love, and even in the transport or endearment carry the usurer's tight-lipped and secret calculation, unacknowledged even by ourselves? Or do we give with an arrogance after all, a passion for self-definition? Or do we simply want a hand, any hand, a human object, to clutch in the dark on the blanket, and fear lies behind everything? Do we want happiness, or is it pain, pain as the index of reality, that we, in the chamber of our heart, want?Oh, if I knew the answer, perhaps then I could feel free.
Robert Penn Warren
It’s good if you can accept your life—you’ll noticeYour face has become deranged trying to adjustTo it. Your face thought your life would lookLike your bedroom mirror when you were ten.That was a clear river touched by mountain wind.Even your parents can’t believe how much you’vechanged.
Robert Bly
How stupid that all I have to dois grow two squishy lumps and suddenlyI'm man's best friend
Christine Heppermann
She wasn't trying to overcome life, only to get along with it, to blend with the processes she could scarcely understand in a world that had permitted her no solid ground.
Jim Harrison
Do you know what dead skin looks like when they take off a cast?That was my life, all that dead skin. It was strange to feel like the Ari I used to be. Except that wasn’t totally true. The Ari I used to be didn’t exist anymore. And the Ari I was becoming? He didn’t exist yet.
Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Fifteen and on the brink, that’s what Mum says about me. On the brink. Like it’s the continental shelf or something. On the brink of what? I want to yell. A rich and meaningful life? Disaster?
Kathryn Lomer
And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.
Christopher Poindexter
Give a bull grass, sweet water and a willing heifer and he is happy. But a man is never content. If no gadflies of worry exist he will invent them.
Alison Fell
Give me a bottle of hard cider, a bowl of Peterson Irish Oak in my Neerup pipe, and please, above all, give my Henry David Thoreau’s Wild Apples. Do that and you will see a man contented.
Nicholas Trandahl
There was a man with tongue of woodWho essayed to sing,And in truth it was lamentable.But there was one who heardThe clip-clapper of this tongue of woodAnd knew what the manWished to sing,And with that the singer was content.
Stephen Crane
I didn't feel like I was missing anything. Nor did I feel ambitious any more. It all seemed stupid wanting to be better than the others in the same ring, shallow, pointless.
Jackie Kay
The two women sat by the fire, tilting their glasses and drinking in small peaceful sips. The lamplight shone upon the tidy room and the polished table, lighting topaz in the dandelion wine, spilling pools of crimson through the flanks of the bottle of plum gin. It shone on the contented drinkers, and threw their large, close-at-hand shadows upon the wall. When Mrs Leak smoothed her apron the shadow solemnified the gesture as though she were moulding an universe. Laura's nose and chin were defined as sharply as the peaks peaks on a holly leaf.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
The angel of God, having secretly Betrothed us one winter day,Watches over our carefree livesWith fixed, darkening eyesBecause of this we love the sky,Keen air, the fresh windAnd the blackening branchesBehind the iron fence.Because of this we love the sternDark city with its many waterways.And we love our partings,And our brief meetings.
Anna Akhmatova
just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch
Jay Woodman
.... just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch, the ease of the grassy slope stretching away, birds in the trees singing sweet high notes, flowers growing close in the ditch.
Jay Woodman
All I ever think about day and night is-how can I make a difference in the lives of others, how can I provide an ounce of contentment and happiness?
Charmaine J.Forde
True affluence is not needing anything.
Gary Snyder
I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should have my will, and having my will, I should be contented; and when one is contented, there is no more to be desired; and when there is no more to be desired, there is an end of it.
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Yes, there is a Nirvanah; it is leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem
Kahlil Gibran
A lonely impulse of delight
W.B. Yeats
We need much less than we think we need.
Maya Angelou
A contented mind is the greatest blessing a man can enjoy in this world.
Joseph Addison
It is better to die, than dive heart-first, into a pool of love, only knee-high deep.
Anthony Liccione
I believe that that love remains strong and intense in your memory because it was your first deep aloneness and the first inner work that you did on your life.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Thinking is easy, acting difficult, and to put one's thoughts into actions the most difficult thing in the world.
German poet Goethe 17491832
She had a voice that made Pearl Harbor seem like a lullaby.
Richard Brautigan
Am I shallow? she asks the mirror. Yes, I am shallow. The sun shines on the ripples where it's shallow. Deep is too dark.
Margaret Atwood
I watched her—the way her shoulders moved with the tilt of her head, how her smile lit up the six people around her, how her hair, tucked behind her ears, framed her face like baby’s breath. I thought about how the sound of her heart beating sounded the rhythm for our dance atop the magnolia floor. I wanted to tell her all this, but didn’t know how. Just because something is broken doesn’t mean it’s no good. Doesn’t mean you throw it away. It just means it’s broken, and broken is okay. I wanted to tell her that broken is still beautiful, still works, still wakes me in the morning, and at the end of every day past and those to come, I can love broken.
Charles Martin
..Moloch who entered my soul early. Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body. Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy. Moloch whom I abandon. Wake up in Moloch.. Light streaming out of the sky.Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! Blind capitals! Demonic industries! Spectral nations! Invincible madhouses! Granite cocks! Monstrous bombs!They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven.. Pavements, trees, radios, tons. Lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us.
Allen Ginsberg
Wish I could be a fragile piece of glass to accept my brokenness.
Munia Khan
You are not flawed, you are as beautiful as you have always been and blessed with evidence of a life lived.
Becca Lee
Some broken vases can still hold beautiful flowers
Munia Khan
Tell them about how you're never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there's always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don't speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside.
Audre Lorde
The slate black sky. The middle stepof the back porch. And long agomy mother's necklace, the beadsrolling north and south. Brokenthe rose stem, water into drops, glassknob on the bedroom door. Last summer'spot of parsley and mint, white rootsshooting like streamers through the cracks.Years ago the cat's tail, the bird bath,the car hood's rusted latch. Brokenlittle finger on my right hand at birth--I was pulled out too fast. What hasn''tbeen rent, divided, split? Broken the days into nights, the night skyinto stars, the stars into patternsI make up as I trace themwith a broken-off bladeof grass. Possible, unthinkable,the cricket's tiny back as I lieon the lawn in the dark, my harta blue cup fallen from someone's hands.
Dorianne Laux
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, and they shall live, and he in them still green.
William Shakespeare
True spiritual love is not a feeble imitation and anticipation of death, but a triumph over death, not a separation of the immortal form from the mortal, of the eternal from the temporal, but a transfiguration of the mortal into the immortal, the acceptance of the temporal into the eternal. False spirituality is a denial of the flesh; true spirituality is the regeneration of the flesh, its salvation, its resurrection from the dead.
Vladimir Sergeyevich Solovyov
He stands on the stone table and selects a large fig, bites into the skin, then opens it with his fingers. He thinks of a woman's sex, ancient and eternal, no young girl would have such gritty sweetness. Was this not perhaps the fruit that got Adam and Eve thrown out of Eden? Who would want to give up an unblemished state of immortality for the insipid apple?
Achmat Dangor
O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,That draws oblivion's curtains over kings;Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not,Their names without a record are forgot,Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th' dustNor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time's rust;But he whose name is graved in the white stoneShall last and shine when all of these are gone.
Anne Bradstreet
Our heads will happen cold when this is found.
Tony Harrison
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