I gather the last remnants of the evening’s breeze, so cool and lazy within my arms, feeling it curl up like a small and innocent kitten.
I remember once kissing you, your face lit by northern stars. Promising to grow old with you, and now so simply breaking the promise.
The same president who has insisted that core moralism drives him has brought America to its lowest moral standing in history.
There is no doubt that Einstein's pipe was his closest associate, while others--including wife and family--were never permitted the illusion that they would ever be at the center of his life.
Hoover: Kent is a legacy, Otter. His brother was a '59, Fred Dorfman. Flounder: He said legacies usually get asked to pledge automatically. Otter: Oh, well, usually. Unless the pledge in question turns out to be a real closet-case. Otter, Boon: Like...
It leaves a good legacy to have five records.
In a nutshell, the universe is 4% visible, 23% undetectable and 73% unimaginable. Welcome to the cosmos, full of mass you can measure but not manhandle, driven by a force you can infer but not explain.
Plato offers the amazing idea that contemplation of the way things really are is, in itself, a purifying process that can bring human beings into the only divinity there is.
Facts that have been forges into history first appear as incoherent text scribbled on aged paper. Only as we examine the whole of that which we know, can we surmise the elements of that which we do not.
Starting the day—Another chance to be new again. How many of us still wish for that? To be your own sunrise. To awaken like a prayer—both solemn and joyful at still being alive . . .
Starting the day - Another chance to be new again. How many of us still wish for that? To be your own sunrise. To awaken like a prayer - both solemn and joyful at still being alive.
Remember, it’s still a mystery to be an adult. If you knew it all before eighteen, you’d have nothing to look forward to. Besides, to be wise and eighteen is as possible as catching lightning in a bottle…
Starting the Day— Another chance to be new again. How many of us still wish for that? To be your own sunrise. To awaken like a prayer -both solemn and joyful at still being alive.
I travel to be replenished with beauty, for travel makes the beauty of this world seem like a Christmas that never ends. I travel for the jolting, angelic act of seeking strangeness and newness and profoundness . . .
Love your kids and just be there for them. You don’t have to eyeball their every moment or to orchestrate all their comings and goings. They know this. They know that’s too much.
Teach them what you love to do in life. It really doesn't matter what it is. It never does. Just show them how important a passion is . . .
Wake up. Be thankful. For whatever happens on this day, you are endlessly given the chance to start again-to be alive. And all of us should wish for that.
Reading teaches us the nuances of humanity. To find the beauty of what is moral and ethical in your own actions and discover the strange subtlety of what it is to question why you should exist.
I travel because it makes me realize how much I haven't seen, how much I'm not going to see, and how much I still need to see.
Don’t spoil kids by trying to buy them off, to buy their time. Kids aren’t stupid. They know a bribe when they see one. They want a parent not a payoff.
MUSIC. Tunneling right down into your CORE and SOULTIME. Hep, sloppy, SEXY and cerebral. Chancy and hip-swinging like ELVIS and your first teenage KISS.
