Women, are a map, Avik. You've got to understand their longitude, and how much latitude you can take.
Stately, kindly, lordly friend Condescend Here to sit by me.
Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which.
Today will die tomorrow.
I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met; You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.
I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.
For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered isgrief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Without ducking responsibility, what's wrong with medicine today is that it is predicated on providing treatment, not on reducing suffering. Not on solving problems.
I am a work in progress dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding.
In or out of marriage, abortion is not an individual choice. At a minimum, three lives are involved.
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.