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"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow. Lin Yutang |
"When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we dont know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in. D. H. Lawrence |
People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain. ~ Jim Morrison
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"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But
the ocean would be less because of that missing drop." ~ Mother Teresa |
I can always be distracted by love, but eventually I get horny for my creativity. ~ Gilda Radner
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An eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind.
Kahlil Gibran |
I may have posted this already.......
But damn...it's just that delicious.... :chocolate: She was wildfire, that girl. She could move like lightning or flow easy as a dream. If she desired you, she only had to think about you and you'd be hers. She wore orange and red like painted passion. Soft and hot at times, or hard as stone when she needed to be. She was an orphan, had the soul of an orphan, had to learn things the hard way. But once she made a decision, there was no turning back. People say she had a heart of stone, but that's not true. She was sweet too, and generous. She'd offer her soul, which was as wide as the earth is wide. Always giving of herself. Constantly giving everything, as if there were an endless river inwards. Creating worlds from her own substance. Can you imagine the pain she was able to endure? Burning like that at all times? Can we? Be like her? I asked my friend, crying from inside, and she said, Oh my tender love, so many girls have died trying. ~"Kim Jensen, from "Halfway Places"~ Peace and Love :praying: |
Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich person's abode.
~Henry David Thoreau |
WHAT IF.......
What if is my son's favorite game, I have found it is also a favorite of those "afraid" of LOVE :heartbeat:
So at 3:00am it just fits......... What if you slept ? And what if, In your sleep You dreamed ? And what if, In your dream, You went to heaven And there plucked A strange and Beautiful flower ? And what if, When you awoke, You had the flower in your hand ? ....Ah, what then? ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge~ Peace and Love :praying: |
One's level of integrity and character is revealed by the way one care's for their pet.
~A friend of mine at Animal Trustees of Austin |
Lead me not into temptation; I can find the way myself.
~Rita Mae Brown |
"You must have long range goals to keep you from being frustrated by short range failures." - Charles Noble
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"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
Hemingway--"A Farewell To Arms" excellent read. |
"Rescue work is like jazz. Improvisation based on fundamentals." ~ Michael Perry, "Population 485: Meeting Your Neighbors One Siren at a Time"
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Remember, if you smoke after sex you're doing it too fast. ~ Woody Allen
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My favorite opening paragraph of a book, ever.
"Summer here comes on like a zaftig hippie chick, jazzed on chlorophyll and flinging fistfuls of butterflies to the sun. The swamps grow spongy and pungent. Standing water goes warm and soupy, clotted with frog eggs and twitching with larvae. Along the ditches, heron-legged stalks of canary grass shoot six feet high and unfurl seed plumes. In the fields, the clover pops its blooms and corn trembles for the sky." ~ Michael Perry, "Population 485: Meeting Your Neighbors One Siren at a Time"
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" i slept...an i drempt we were making love, slow sweet and damn.... oh so good.... we were connected mind body and soul, two bodies perfectly in sync.... i felt you tense as i tensed...... i tasted your pleasure on your lips...and skin.... i rode a wave of pure pleasure from your touch.... we peaked...and peaked....and peaked again......untill we lay still.... damp and chilled from our exertion..... we spoon and our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.... i breath in your scent...... and doze in you arms.....safe and content..... we, i awake...i am alone....my body aches to feel urs..... i lost you in a dream......." ~Me~ Peace and Love......:ohm: |
The art of living does not consist in
preserving and clinging to a particular mode of happiness, but in allowing happiness to change its form without being disappointed by the change; happiness, like a child, must be allowed to grow up. ~Charles L. Morgan |
If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
Wayne Dyer |
Drunk as Drunk
Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails. Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox, drowsy and tangled together We drifted for months and woke With the bitter taste of land on our lips, Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime And the sound of a rope Lowering a bucket down its well. Then, We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses. - Neruda |
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