Rumi and Shams taught us how to see the world with new eyes, how to find our place in the order of things, and how to extricate the true self trapped under layers of noise.
Rumi and Shams bring to our lives the simple truth that we are not alone, that God really does care. And God's joyous love for each of us is rivaled only by Her divine sense of humor.
When I was a kid, we went to St. Augustine, Fla., and I was lying on the couch one night with a Q-tip, cleaning my ear out after I'd taken a shower. I hit my arm on something, jabbed the Q-tip through my ear drum, busted my ear drum and couldn't get ...
The feminist movement as we have come to know it in recent decades is fundamentally a "con."...As it is considered treasonous to criticise a sister feminist, no standards of accuracy or honesty are ever enforced. Hyperbole and deceit thus become the ...
George: What's the matter with you, then? Ringo: It's his grandfather. I can tell he doesn't like me. It's cause I'm little. George: Ah, you've got an inferiority complex, you have. Ringo: Yeah, I know, that's why I play the drums - it's me active co...
Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum. S...
Song of myself With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums, I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches for conquer'd and slain persons. Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battl...
Drumming is my middle name.
War begins like a pretty girl with whom every man wants to flirt and ends like an ugly old woman whose visitors suffer and weep -
My drumming is always an experiment.
I do not dye my hair black so as to be young again and sin again but because people dye their clothes black in mourning, so I have dyed my hair black, mourning for my old age. -
One grey hair appeared on my head I plucked it out with my hand. It answered me: "You have prevailed against me alone - What will you do when my army comes after me?" -
Your life is a sum of counted breaths. With each breath that passes a part of life is lost. That which gives life brings death every moment nearer, and your caravan is led by one who will not jest with you. -
Drums were my first instrument.
In the morning on Sunday, a drum is sounded at about 8 o'clock.
Scattered among these things are reminders that sound once existed: a metronome, a drumming pad, a guitar pick, a trumpet mouthpiece, a music stand, a tuning fork, a block of rosin...The older instruments bear the marks of those who have already play...
Drums usually seem to tune themselves.
When I'm drumming, I'm not thinking about much.
Drumming was the only thing I was ever good at.
Sorry, no, I'm never satisfied with my drumming.
I actually wanted to be a drummer, but I didn't have any drums.
