Gratitude

Can wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Tolle lege, tolle lege.

‘We are always doing’, says he, ‘something for Posterity, but I would fain see Posterity do something for us.’

Whoever is your teacher, even for a day, consider your father (to respect and care for) your whole life.

Service that is rendered without joy helps neither the servant nor the served. But all other pleasures as possessions pale into nothingness before service which is rendered in a spirit of joy.

Hatred can be overcome only by love.

One misty, moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man Clothed all in leather; He began to compliment, And I began to grin— “How do you do?” and “How do you do?” And “How do you do?” again!

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom taking the world into my arms.

Father, I love you, yet how can I say thank you, I who can’t hold my liquor either and don’t even know the places to fish.

how to love this world.

LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED! there is no snow in Hollywood there is no rain in California I have been to lots of parties and acted perfectly disgraceful but I never actually collapsed oh Lana Turner we love you get up

Color of cinnamon Clove’s sweet smell, I’ve come a long way To see Gabrielle.

Here lies my past. Good-bye I have kissed it; Thank you, kids. I wouldn’t have missed it.

No foreign sky protected me, no stranger’s wing shielded my face. I stand as witness to the common lot, survivor of that time, that place.

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.

Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen Unpassioned beauty of a great machine; The benison of hot water; furs to touch; The good smell of old clothes.

What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage Whose world, or mine or theirs or is it of none? First came the seen, then thus the palpable What thou lovest well is thy true heritage.

All men by their nature give praise.

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold

Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, And say my glory was I had such friends.

What they undertook to do They brought to pass; All things hang like a drop of dew Upon a blade of grass.

Though I’ve belted you an’ flayed you, By the livin’ Gawd that made you, You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

I took one Draught of Life— I’ll tell you what I paid— Precisely an existence— The market price, they said. They weighed me, Dust by Dust— They balanced Film with Film, Then handed me my Being’s worth— A single Dram of Heaven!

If I can stop one Heart from breaking I shall not live in vain If I can ease one Life the Aching Or cool one Pain Or help one fainting Robin Unto his Nest again I shall not live in Vain.