Saturday, July 30, 2016

Story of man's life by Hermann Hesse

I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.

My story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are; it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams — like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.

Each man's life represents the road toward himself, and attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No man has ever been entirely and completely himself. Yet each one strives to become that — one in an awkward, the other in a more intelligent way, each as best he can.
Hermann Hesse

The greatest exception in Love by Johann Wolfgang goethe

To be loved for what one is, that is the greatest exception.
The great majority love in others only what they lend him;
their own selves, their version of him.
Johann Wolfgang goethe

Friday, July 29, 2016

Reason, love and & the will by Ludwig Feuerbach

The power of thought is the light of knowledge,
the power of will is the energy of character,
the power of heart is love.
Reason, love and power of will are perfections of man.
Ludwig Feuerbach

Is it man that possesses love,
or is it not much rather love that possesses man?
Ludwig Feuerbach

Thursday, July 28, 2016

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
W. B. Yeats

Dear creature!—you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of light, that her home is the air,
And she only par complaisance touches the ground.
Thomas Moore

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Words by Sanober Khan

are powerful
forces of nature.
They are destruction.
they are nourishment.
they are flesh.
they are water.
they are flowers
and bone.

They burn. they cleanse
they erase. they etch.

They can either
leave you

or brimming
with home.
Sanober Khan

Monday, July 25, 2016


No man ever reaches manhood
till a woman's tenderness
Is a part of his possession.

They say that a man is not a real one until he hears
his name from the lips of a woman... It could be.
Antonio Machado

Saturday, July 23, 2016

The Goblet of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Francis Goya - Goodbye My Darling

The Goblet of Life
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Filled is Life's goblet to the brim;
And though my eyes with tears are dim,
I see its sparkling bubbles swim,
And chant a melancholy hymn
With solemn voice and slow.

No purple flowers,--no garlands green,
Conceal the goblet's shade or sheen,
Nor maddening draughts of Hippocrene,
Like gleams of sunshine, flash between
Thick leaves of mistletoe.

This goblet, wrought with curious art,
Is filled with waters, that upstart,
When the deep fountains of the heart,
By strong convulsions rent apart,
Are running all to waste.

And as it mantling passes round,
With fennel is it wreathed and crowned,
Whose seed and foliage sun-imbrowned
Are in its waters steeped and drowned,
And give a bitter taste.

Above the lowly plants it towers,
The fennel, with its yellow flowers,
And in an earlier age than ours
Was gifted with the wondrous powers,
Lost vision to restore.

It gave new strength, and fearless mood;
And gladiators, fierce and rude,
Mingled it in their daily food;
And he who battled and subdued,
A wreath of fennel wore.

Then in Life's goblet freely press,
The leaves that give it bitterness,
Nor prize the colored waters less,
For in thy darkness and distress
New light and strength they give!

And he who has not learned to know
How false its sparkling buhbles show,
How bitter are the drops of woe,
With which its brim may overflow,
He has not learned to live.

The prayer of Ajax was for light;
Through all that dark and desperate fight
The blackness of that noonday night
He asked but the return of sight,
To see his foeman's face.

Let our unceasing, earnest prayer
Be, too, for light,--for strength to bear
Our portion of the weight of care,
That crushes into dumb despair
One half the human race.

O suffering, sad humanity!
O ye afflicted one; who lie
Steeped to the lips in misery,
Longing, and yet afraid to die,
Patient, though sorely tried!

I pledge you in this cup of grief,
Where floats the fennel's bitter leaf!
The Battle of our Life is brief
The alarm,--the struggle,--the relief,
Then sleep we side by side.

Friday, July 22, 2016

Stay in the company of lovers by Rumi

Stay in the company of lovers.
Those other kinds of people, they each
want to show you something.
A crow will lead you to an empty barn,
A parrot to sugar.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Where Man Lives by Joseph Joubert

Properly speaking, man inhabits only his head and his heart.
All other places are vainly before his eyes, at his sides,
and under his feet: he himself is not there at all.
joseph Joubert

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

If I knew by Gabriel García Márquez

If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you,
I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul.
If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door,
I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more.

If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice,
I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again.
If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you,
and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.
Gabriel García Márquez,one hundred years of solitude

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Humanity by Fulke greville

Oh, wearisome condition of humanity,
Born under one law, to another bound;
Vainly begot, and yet forbidden vanity,
Created sick, commanded to be sound.
Fulke Greville

Truth & illusions by Friedrich Nietzsche

Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth
because they don't want their illusions destroyed.
Friedrich Nietzsche

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Proper Teaching by Frank Herbert

Proper teaching is recognized with ease. You can know it without fail
because it awakens within you that sensation which tells you this is
something you have always known.
Frank Herbert,Dune

My Heart is a Lute by Anne Barnard

Alas, that my heart is a lute,
Whereon you have learned to play!
For a many years it was mute,
Until one summer's day
You took it, and touched it, and made it thrill,
And it thrills and throbs, and quivers still!
Anne Barnard

Monday, July 11, 2016

Celebrating Man & Nature:Inspirational Quotes & Poems

BANDARI - Melody of Love

But,who can paint
Like Nature? Can imagination boast,
Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?
Or can it mix them with that matchless skill,
And lose them in each other, as appears
In every bud that blows? If fancy then
Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task,
Ah, what shall language do? Ah, where find words
Tinged with so many colours; and whose power,
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, those aromatic gales,
That inexhaustive flow continual round?
James Thomson

Every flower that gives its fragrance to the wandering air leaves
its influence on the soul of man. The wheel and swoop of the winged
creatures of the air suggest the flowing lines of subtle art.
The roar and murmur of the restless sea, the cataract's solemn chant,
the thunder's voice, the happy babble of the brook, the whispering
leaves, the thrilling notes of mating birds, the sighing winds,
taught man to pour his heart in song and gave a voice to grief
and hope, to love and death.
Robert Ingersoll

There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods
George Gordon Byron

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something for more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting sins,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky and the mind of Man
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thoughts
And rolls through all things.
William Wordsworth

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God—the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures;
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward, Nature's good
And God's.
Robert Browning

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Music is love in search of a word***Inspirational Music Quotes*

Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson

Are we not formed, as notes of music are,
For one another, though dissimilar?
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music is love in search of a word.
Sidney Lanier

Music was a thing of the soul—a rose-lipped shell
that murmured of the eternal sea—a strange bird
singing the songs of another shore.
Josiah Gilbert Holland

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
John Keats

Friday, July 8, 2016

The way by Ella wheeler Wilcox

Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven
Is Love's location. No dogmatic creed,
No austere faith based on ignoble fear
Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace.
Unless the humblest creatures on the earth
Are bettered by thy loving sympathy
Think not to find a Paradise beyond.
Ella wheeler Wilcox

Truth will prevail by FULKE GREVILLE

"Truth will prevail." It may be true; but some people, I believe, think her a very slow worker; and little will the satisfaction of her prevailing be to you, if you happen to be ruined in your reputation or fortune while she is at work.
FULKE GREVILLE, Maxims, Characters and Reflections

Friday, July 1, 2016

Nature made us individual by Lydia Maria Child

Nature made us individuals, as she did the flowers and the pebbles; but we are afraid to be peculiar, and so our society resembles a bag of marbles, or a string of mold candles. Why should we all dress after the same fashion? The frost never paints my windows twice alike.
Lydia Maria Child

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