Often, moreover, it is...that aspect of our being that society finds eccentric, ridiculous, or disagreeable, that holds our sweet waters, our secret well of happiness, the key to our equanimity in malevolent climes.
Ideals are like stars; you will not succeed in touching them with your hands. But like the seafaring man on the desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them you will reach your destiny.
Ideals are like stars: you will not succeed in touching them with your hands, but like the seafaring man on the ocean desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them, you reach your destiny.
True story This morning I jumped on my horse And went for a ride, And some wild outlaws chased me And shot me in the side. So I crawled into a wildcats cave To find a place to hide But some pirates found me sleeping there And soon they had me tied To a pole and built a fire Under me---I almost cried Till a mermaid came and cut me loose And begged to be my bride So I said id come back Wednesday But I must admit I lied. Then I ran into a jungle swamp But I forgot my guide And I stepped into some quicksand And no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get out, until I met A watersnake named Clyde Who pulled me to some cannibals Who planned to have me fried But an eagle came and swooped me up And through the air we flied But he dropped me in a boiling lake A thousand miles wide And you’ll never guess what I did then--- I DIED
Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.
The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not...yet, I occurred.
I pride myself on the fact that my work has no socially redeeming value.
There were five others before they got to him. He smiled a little when his turn came. His voice was low, smoky, and dead sexy. “My name is Augustus Waters,†he said. “I’m seventeen. I had a little touch of osteosarcoma a year and a half ago, but I’m just here today at Isaac’s request.†“And how are you feeling?†asked Patrick. “Oh, I’m grand.†Augustus Waters smiled with a corner of his mouth. “I’m on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
I've had it with being nice, understanding, fair and hopeful. I feel like being negative all day. The chip on my shoulder could sink the QE2. I've got an attitude problem and nobody better get in my way...I'm in a bad mood and the whole stupid little world is gonna pay!