Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Molded by Love & Friendship by François Mauriac

We are all molded and remolded by those who have loved us and,
though that love may pass, we remain, none the less, their work.
No love, no friendship can ever cross the path of our destiny
without leaving some mark upon it forever.
François Mauriac

Remaining Alive by Edith Wharton

In spite of illness, in spite of the arch enemy sorrow,
one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration
if one is unafraid of change, insatiable of intellectual curiosity,
interested in big things, and happy in small ways.
Edith Wharton

Saturday, December 9, 2017

The power of Nature by William Wordsworth

And hence this Tale, while I was yet a Boy.
Careless of books, yet having felt the power
Of Nature, by the gentle agency
Of natural objects, led me on to feel
For passions that were not my own, and think
(At random and imperfectly indeed)
On man, the heart of man, and human life.
William Wordsworth

To Each His Dulcinea (To Every Man His Dream) lyrics

To Each His Dulcinea (To Every Man His Dream) lyrics
From"Man of La Mancha (Don Quixote)"

To each his Dulcinea
That he alone can name...
Where he can find the haunting face
To light his secret flame.

For with his Dulcinea Beside him so to stand,
A man can do quite anything,
Outfly the bird upon the wing,
Hold moonlight in his hand.
Yet if you build your life on dreams
It's prudent to recall,
A man with moonlight in his hand
Has nothing there at all.

There is no Dulcinea,
She's made of flame and air,
And yet how lovely life would seem
If ev'ry man could weave a dream
To keep him from despair.
To each his Dulcinea...
Though she's naught but flame and air!

love Lives Always by Marcel Proust

When the heartstrings, which contentment has silenced,
like a harp laid by, yearn to be plucked and sounded
again by some hand, however rough, even if it should
break them.
Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

Love, ever unsatisfied, lives always
in the moment that is about to come.
Marcel Proust

Thursday, December 7, 2017

keep a patch of sky above your life by Marcel Proust

Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life.
Marcel Proust, Swann's Way

My destination is no longer a place,
rather a new way of seeing.

Even though our lives wander,
our memories remain in one place.
Marcel Proust

Friday, December 1, 2017

Happiness is a journey, not a destination by Alfred D. Souza

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life.
But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten
through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served,
a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.

This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness.
Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember
that time waits for no one.
Alfred D. Souza

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Love & The seasons by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Pavel Panin-October

Ella Wheeler Wilcox


A sudden softness in the wind;
A glint of song, a-wing;
A fragrant sound that trails behind,
And joy in everything.

A sudden flush upon the cheek,
The teardrop quick to start;
A hope too delicate to speak,
And heaven within the heart.


A riotous dawn and the sea’s great wonder;
The red, red heart of a rose uncurled;
And beauty tearing her veil asunder,
In sight of a swooning world.

A call of the soul, and the senses blended;
The Springtime lost in the glow of the sun,
And two lives rushing, as God intended,
To meet and mingle as one.


The world is out in gala dress;
And yet it is not gay.
Its splendour hides a loneliness
For something gone away.

(Laughter and music on the air;
A shower of rice and bloom.
Smiles for the fond departing pair—
And then the empty room.)


Two trees swayed in the winter wind; and dreamed
The snowflakes falling about them were bees
Singing among the leaves.And they were glad,
Knowing the dream would soon come true.

Beside the hearth an aged couple rocked,
And dozed; and dreamed the friends long passed from sight
Were with them once again.They woke and smiled,
Knowing the dream would soon come true.

Saturday, November 25, 2017

"You Can't Go Home Again" by Thomas Wolfe

Excerpts from"You Can't Go Home Again"
Thomas Wolfe

Child, child, have patience and belief,for life is many days,
and each present hour will pass away. Son, son, you have been
mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair,
and all the dark confusions of the soul - but so have we.

You found the earth too great for your one life, you found your
brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them -
but it has been this way with all men. You have stumbled on in darkness,
you have been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered,
you have missed the way, but, child, this is the chronicle of the earth.

And now, because you have known madness and despair, and because you will
grow desperate again before you come to evening, we who have stormed
the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who have been
maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of love, we who have hungered
after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and now
sit quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall
touch us - we call upon you to take heart, for we can swear to you that
these things pass.

You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood,
back home to romantic love, back home to a young man's dreams of glory
and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land,
back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing's sake, back home
to aestheticism, to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and
the all-sufficiency of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love,' back home to
the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage
in Bermude, away from all the strife and conflict of the world,

back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for,
back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden
for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which
once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time--back
home to the escapes of Time and Memory.
Thomas Wolfe,You can't go home again

Friday, November 24, 2017

Grateful by John Greenleaf Whittier

No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear,
But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.
John Greenleaf Whittier

The final answers by R. A. Lafferty

All the final answers were given in the beginning.
They stand shining, above and beyond us, but
they are always there to be seen.
They may be too bright for us,
they may be too clear for us.
Well then, we must clarify our own eyes.
Our task is to grow out until we reach them.
R. A. Lafferty

Nature: Noble inclinations by Washington Irving

There is a serene and settled majesty to woodland scenery
that enters into the soul and delights and elevates it,
and fills it with noble inclinations.
Washington Irving

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

The power of love by Miguel de Cervantes

Love is influenced by no consideration,
recognizes no restraints of reason,
and is of the same nature as death,
that assails alike the lofty palaces
of kings and the humble cabins of shepherds;
and when it takes entire possession of a heart,
the first thing it does is to banish
fear and shame from it.

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies;
runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third
into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one,
another it kills: like lightning it begins
and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield
at night which it besieged but in the morning;
for there is no force able to resist it.
Miguel de Cervantes

Saturday, November 18, 2017

The universe in Wild dance by Max Born

We have sought for firm ground and found none.
The deeper we penetrate, the more restless becomes the universe;
all is rushing about and vibrating in a wild dance.

I believe there is no philosophical high-road in science,
with epistemological signposts.
No, we are in a jungle and find our way by trial and error,
building our road behind us as we proceed.

Intellect distinguishes between the possible and the impossible;
reason distinguishes between the sensible and the senseless.
Even the possible can be senseless.
Max Born

The road of Science by Max Born

I have tried to read philosophers of all ages and have found many
illuminating ideas but no steady progress toward deeper
knowledge and understanding.

Science, however, gives me the feeling of steady progress:
I am convinced that theoretical physics is actual philosophy.
It has revolutionized fundamental concepts,e.g., about space and time
(relativity), about causality (quantum theory), and about substance
and matter (atomistics), and it has taught us new methods of thinking
(complementarity) which are applicable far beyond physics.

I believe that ideas such as absolute certitude, absolute exactness,
final truth, etc.are figments of the imagination which should not
be admissible in any field of science.
This loosening of thinking seems to me to be the greatest blessing
which modern science has given to us. For the belief in a single truth
and in being the possessor thereof is the root cause of all evil in the world.

My advice to those who which to learn the art of scientific prophesy
is not to rely on abstract reason, but to decipher the secret language
of Nature from Nature's documents: the facts of experience.
Max Born

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Holding on & letting go by Rumi/ & inspirational rumi life quotes

Life is a balance between
holding on and letting go.

Maybe you are searching among the branches,
for what only appears in the roots.

Purify your eyes,
and see the pure world.
Your life will fill
with radiant forms.

And my heart rocked its babe of bliss by Gerald Massey

And my heart rocked its babe of bliss,
And soothed its child of air,
With something 'twixt a song and kiss,
To keep it nestling there.
Gerald Massey

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

A grateful loving heart by John Greenleaf Whittier

A grateful loving heart carries with it, under every
parallel of latitude,the warmth and light of the tropics.
It plants its Eden in the wilderness and solitary place,
and sows with flowers the gray desolation of rock and mosses.
John Greenleaf Whittier

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Golden Lines/Vers Dorés by Gérard de Nerval

Golden Lines
Gérard de Nerval

Well, then! All is sentient!

Free-thinker, Man, do you think you alone
Think, while life explodes everywhere?
Your freedom employs the powers you own,
But world is absent from all your affairs.

Respect an active spirit in the creature:
Each flower is a soul open to Nature;
In metal a mystery of love is sleeping;
‘All is sentient!’ Has power over your being.

Fear the gaze in the blind wall that watches:
There is a verb attached to matter itself…
Do not let it serve some impious purpose!

Often a hidden god inhabits obscure being;
And like an eye, born, covered by its eyelids,
Pure spirit grows beneath the surface of stones!

The original french poem

Gérard de Nerval

Eh quoi ! tout est sensible !

Homme, libre penseur ! te crois-tu seul pensant
Dans ce monde où la vie éclate en toute chose ?
Des forces que tu tiens ta liberté dispose,
Mais de tous tes conseils l’univers est absent.

Respecte dans la bête un esprit agissant :
Chaque fleur est une âme à la Nature éclose ;
Un mystère d’amour dans le métal repose ;
« Tout est sensible ! » Et tout sur ton être est puissant.

Crains, dans le mur aveugle, un regard qui t’épie :
À la matière même un verbe est attaché…
Ne le fais pas servir à quelque usage impie !

Souvent dans l’être obscur habite un Dieu caché ;
Et comme un œil naissant couvert par ses paupières,
Un pur esprit s’accroît sous l’écorce des pierres !

Thursday, November 9, 2017

This is Love By Rumi /Best and inspirational selection of Rumi love poems

Soft Hands-Ali Ismael

Rumi & The Way of Spiritual Lover

This is Love

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,
to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First, to let go of life.
In the end, to take a step without feet;
to regard this world as invisible,
and to disregard what appears to be the self.

Heart, I said, what a gift it has been
to enter this circle of lovers,
to see beyond seeing itself,
to reach and feel within the breast.

I am sculptor

I am a sculptor, a molder of form.
In every moment I shape an idol.
But then, in front of you, I melt them down
I can rouse a hundred forms
and fill them with spirit,
but when I look into your face,
I want to throw them in the fire.
My souls spills into yours and is blended.

Because my soul has absorbed your fragrance,
I cherish it.
Every drop of blood I spill
informs the earth,
I merge with my Beloved
when I participate in love.
In this house of mud and water,
my heart has fallen to ruins.
Enter this house, my Love, or let me leave.

When the rose is gone

When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.

If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.

How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth.

Because I cannot sleep

Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a god reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The starts and the moon are envious of each other.

Because of this alienation the physical universe
is getting tighter and tighter.
The moon says, "How long will I remain
suspended without a sun?"
Without Love's jewel inside of me,
let the bazaar of my existence by destroyed stone by stone.

O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,

You who are faceless but have a thousand faces,
O Love, You who shape the faces
of Turks, Europeans, and Zanzibaris,
give me a glass from Your bottle,
or a handful of bheng from Your Branch.
Remove the cork once more.

Then we'll see a thousand chiefs prostrate themselves,
and a circle of ecstatic troubadours will play.
Then the addict will be freed of craving.
and will be resurrected,
and stand in awe till Judgement Day.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Some famous Quotes From The Novel "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" by Friedrich Nietzsche

Excerpts from The novel
"Thus Spoke Zarathustra"
Friedrich Nietzsche

You look up when you wish to be exalted.
And I look down because I am exalted.

German text:
Ihr seht nach oben, wenn ihr nach Erhebung verlangt.
Und ich sehe hinab, weil ich erhoben bin.

But it is the same with man as with the tree.
The more one seeks to rise into height and light,
the more vigorously do ones roots struggle earthward,
downward, into the dark, the deep — into evil.

German text:
Es ist mit dem Menschen wie mit dem Baume.
Je mehr er hinauf in die Höhe und Helle will,
um so stärker streben seine Wurzeln erdwärts,
abwärts, in's Dunkle, Tiefe, — in's Böse.

I know of the hatred and envy of your hearts.
You are not great enough not to know hatred and envy.
Then be great enough not to be ashamed of them!

German text:
Ich weiss um den Hass und Neid eures Herzens.
Ihr seid nicht gross genug, um Hass und Neid nicht zu kennen.
So seid denn gross genug, euch ihrer nicht zu schämen!

This is the manner of noble souls: they do not want to have
anything for nothing; least of all, life.

Whoever is of the mob wants to live for nothing; we others,
however, to whom life gave itself, we always think about
what we might best give in return.
One should not wish to enjoy where one does not give joy.

German text:
Also will es die Art edler Seelen: sie wollen Nichts umsonst
haben, am wenigsten das Leben.

Wer vom Pöbel ist, der will umsonst leben; wir anderen aber,
denen das Leben sich gab – wir sinnen immer darüber, was wir
am besten dagegen geben!

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

The mission of those who love mankind by Umberto Eco

Perhaps the mission of those who love mankind is to make people
laugh at the truth, to make truth laugh, because the only truth
lies in learning to free ourselves from insane passion for the truth.
Umberto Eco

Monday, October 30, 2017

The people are phenomena of perception by Wallace stevens

The people in the world, and the objects in it, and the world
as a whole, are not absolute things, but on the contrary,
are the phenomena of perception.

If we were all alike: if we were millions of people saying
do, re, mi,in unison, One poet would be enough.

But we are not alone, and everything needs expounding all the time
because,as people live and die, each one perceiving life and death
for himself, and mostly by and in himself, there develops a curiosity
about the perceptions of others.

This is what makes it possible to go on
saying new things about old things.
Wallace Stevens

What solitudes all these human bodies are! by Alfred De musset

Alas, everything that men say to one another is alike;
the ideas they exchange are almost always the same,
in their conversation. But inside all those isolated machines,
what hidden recesses, what secret compartments!
It is an entire world that each one carries within him,
an unknown world that is born and dies in silence!
What solitudes all these human bodies are!
Alfred de Musset, Fantasio

Saturday, October 28, 2017

O divine music! by Khalil Gibran

Nostalgia - Judy Esther

khalil Gibran

Music is the quivering of a string, charged with waves
from the upper air,it penetrates your hearing, its echos
emerges from your eyes in a burning tear, and from your
lips as they sigh for a beloved one being far away,or it
utters a moan caused by the sting of history and the fangs of destiny.

And it can happen that the notes of music are reflected
on your lips as a smile of fulfilment.

Music is a houri in the paradise of the gods,
who was in love with the sons of Adam, Then
she came down to earth and told them of her love.
The gods, in a fury, ordered a terrible wind
to rush after her in pursuit.

In this way, she was scattered through the air
and disseminated to all the corners of the earth.
She did not die, she still lives in the ears of humans.

Music is the echo of the first kiss bestowed by Adam on the lips of Eve.
And ever since then this echo has caused pleausre to
rebound onto fingers as they play and ears as they listen.

Through the eyes of hearing I was able to see the heart of love.

Music is the language of the spirit.
Its melody is like a playful breeze
which makes the strings vibrate with love.

When the fairy fingers of music touch the doorway of feelings
they awake memories enclosed in the depths of the past.

O divine music!

We lay our hearts and our souls
closely within you.

You teach us to see with our ears,
and to listen with our hearts.

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