Bleeding for a decade For a decade, We bleed like there is no hell but the earth We bleed like we were born to dare We bleed like there is nothing alive inside. We find a clue After a decade Bleeding is just to breath Simply keeps us alive.
What conclusion is to be drawn from this paradox so worthy of being born in our time; and what will become of virtue when one has to get rich at all cost? The ancient political thinkers forever spoke of morals and of virtue; ours speak only of commer...
Arise! Arise!! Arise!!! Christ beseeches you; Be born again, Tune-in to God; Meditate on His word; And be turned on, Talk to Him; Bask in His presence; And know Him, Be permeated with Him; And let your life’s aroma tell His story. 2 Corinthians 2:1...
If you are a real writer, then just surrender to the writer's life, all of it, even the bad stuff. When you do that, the beauty appears: the peace, the meaning, the joy, the fulfillment, the sense that you are doing what you were born to do and what ...
Humanity's legacy of stories and storytelling is the most precious we have. All wisdom is in our stories and songs. A story is how we construct our experiences. At the very simplest, it can be: 'He/she was born, lived, died.' Probably that is the tem...
My head is in another dimension. My feet are talking to their soles. My nose is detecting a hint of sweaty, overpumped poon. There's a spider corpse perpetually hanging on the wall next to my pillow that I don't have any desire to correct. My breath ...
If you think about it, we get robbed of the mystery of being alive. I think we get robbed of the glory of it because we don't remember how we got here. When you get born, you wake up slowly to everything. From birth to 26, God is slowly turning on th...
The fury of confession, at first, then the fury of clarity: It was from you, Death, that such hypocritical obscure feeling was born! And now let them accuse me of every passion, let them bad-mouth me, let them say I’m deformed, impure, obsessed, a ...
I thought of Sammy Glick rocking in his cradle of hate, malnutrition, prejudice, suspicions, amorality, the anarchy of the poor; I thought of him as a mangy puppy in a dog-eat-dog world. I was modulating my hate for Sammy Glick from the personal to t...
Girls mature faster than boys, cost more to raise, and statistics show that the old saw about girls not knowing about money and figures is a myth. Girls start to outspend boys before puberty—and they manage to maintain this lead until death or an u...
There is a desire within each of us, in the deep center of ourselves that we call our heart. We were born with it, it is never completely satisfied, and it never dies. We are often unaware of it, but it is always awake. It is the Human desire for Lov...
"I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: A huge four-footed limestone form Sits in the desert, sinking in the sand. Its whiskered face, though marred by wind and storm, Still flaunts the dainty ears, the collar band And feline traits the scul...
There is no quarrel between science and spirituality. I often hear people of science trying to use it to prove the nonexistence of the spiritual, but I simply can't see a chasm in between the two. What is spiritual produces what is scientific and whe...
Mental illness People assume you aren’t sick unless they see the sickness on your skin like scars forming a map of all the ways you’re hurting. My heart is a prison of Have you tried?s Have you tried exercising? Have you tried eating better? Have...
You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you; because you never felt love. You have both sentiments yet to experience: your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall waken it. You think all existence laps...
Ham Porter: [mimicking Babe Ruth with a cigar in his mouth; can't understand him] Check this out. I'm the Great Bambino. Sandlot Kids: What? Ham Porter: [still can't understand him] I'm the Great Bambino! Sandlot Kids: What? Ham Porter: [takes cigar ...
Hey, where are you going?" His voice, confused yet curious, called after me. "Hey. Why didn't your mother name you Maybe, or We'll see, or What's-Your-Number? That way, we could call our first born Absolutely.
We are all born rude. No infant has ever appeared yet with the grace to understand how inconsiderate it is to disturb others in the middle of the night.
Those horses must have been Spanish jennets, born of mares mated with a zephyr; for they went as swiftly as the wind, and the moon, which had risen at our departure to give us light, rolled through the sky like a wheel detached from its carriage...
SECOND SUN So much blood Has been spent in this world, But we have not yet built a sun of blood. Listen, my friend, To these trembling words: A second sun will be born of our blood in the form of a heart.
The Japanese think it strange we paint our old wooden houses when it takes so long to find the in them. They prefer the bonsai tree after the valiant blossoming is over, the leaves fallen. When bareness reveals a merit born in the vegetable strugglin...