|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| "Even Caesar's fortune at one time was but a grand presentiment. We know what a masquerade all development is, and what effective shapes may be disguised in helpless embryos - In fact, the world is full of hopeful analogies and handsome dubious eggs called possibilities."
-George Eliot, Middlemarch | | |
| May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
So that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them
And turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen
A Franciscan benediction | | |
|
| | |
|
If
by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
| | |
|
You and I meet
On the shores of the broken
You swallow the ocean
I swallow my pride
Only to see
The way that I need you
Is more than I knew
I ever could
In between the ashes and the flames
Is a cry an awkward silence
Could never contain
And the falling of my hammers
And the writhing of my pain
Is just not as real as the way
That you're calling my name
I can't help thinking
That the way that you want me
And the ghost that haunts me
Are one and the same
Cause you stand at my window
At night while I'm sleeping
There's not a promise I'm keeping
That could ever repay you
In between the ashes and the flames
There's a song that burns brighter
Than radio waves
Bout the remnants of my idols
And the shadow of my shame
About how they scatter like the rain and I can't stop crying
Cause you wont stop calling my name
Calling my name up from the ashes | | |
|
