How poor is the wisdom of men, and how uncertain their forecast!
The only thing we can't buy more of is time. " she said. "And dodo birds. We can't buy any more of them. they're extinct. And dinosaurs.
If we were always conscious of the fact that people precious to us are frighteningly mortal, hanging not even by a thread, but by a wisp of gossamer, perhaps we would be kinder to them and more grateful for the love and friendship they give to us.
We are all the walking wounded in a world that is a war zone. Everything we love will be taken from us, everything, last of all life itself. Yet everywhere I look, I find great beauty in this battlefield, and grace and the promise of joy.
A scar is not always a flaw. Sometimes a scar may be redemption inscribed in the flesh, a memorial to something endured, to something lost.
We can approach belief from an intellectual path, but in the end, God must be taken on faith. Proofs are for things of this world, things in time and of time, not beyond time.
What does worry accomplish except to breed more worry?
There is no ultimate objective reality within the ten thousand states of mind. Most people don't like to hear this. But there are ten thousand realities, and each is definitely unifying.
Even a painful longing is some form of presence.
I think about Dischord. There's been a pretty consistent notion that Dischord have been some sort of "overlords" of the scene. Some people have felt 'they are too cool for us, or they won't put this out, etc. All we're doing is our own work, our own thing. That's all we've ever done. Our work.
I heard when I talk, they all listen, They hang on every word from the God, they all Christians. I baptize 'em with lines, this is y'all christenin' Bless with the gift of my presence, this y'all's Christmas.