‘You cannot judge the importance of things by the noise they make.’

Goodbye Mr Chips

 

 

It’s time for the day to be over. We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep – it’s simple and ordinary as that.

A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills, more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease, or if we’re very fortunate by time itself.

There’s just some consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined though everyone but children (and perhaps even they)  knows these hours will inevitably b y others far darker and more difficult.

Still, we cherish the city, the morning: we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so.

The Hours, Michael Cunningham

 

 

 

“The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.”

Marcus Aurelias

 

“Do you love me,” I asked him once.

 “Sure I do.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have a reason?”

“Sure. I got a reason,” he said. “Because you are a rose in a field of dirty old tyres, that’s why.

                                                                        Miles from Nowhere, Nami Mun

 

 

Yes is a world and in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds.

e.e. cummings

 

“Few people understand the enormous advantage of never hesitating and always daring.”

Criminologist Maurice Cusson explaining the success of Hell’s Angels

 

In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,
coming back to this life from the other
more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world
where everything began,
there is a small opening into the new day
which closes the moment you begin your plans.

What you can plan is too small for you to live.
What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans enough
for the vitality hidden in your sleep.

To be human is to become visible
while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.
To remember the other world in this world
is to live in your true inheritance.

You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents
you were invited from another and greater night
than the one from which you have just emerged.

Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning window
toward the mountain presence of everything that can be
what urgency calls you to your one love?
What shape waits in the seed of you
to grow and spread its branches
against a future sky?

Is it waiting in the fertile sea?
In the trees beyond the house?
In the life you can imagine for yourself?
In the open and lovely white page on the waiting desk?

David Whyte

 

“I’ll always discover something new about myself. No matter how long you stand there examining yourself naked before a mirror, you’ll never see what is reflected inside.”

Murakami

 

‘There’s a time for departure  even when there is no certain place to go.’

Tennessee Williams

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