You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day read more

You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.

Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., read more

Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., Virtus sui gloria.]

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

I said, Days should speak, and multitude of years should teach
wisdom.

I said, Days should speak, and multitude of years should teach
wisdom.

Is not every meanest day the confluence of two eternities?

Is not every meanest day the confluence of two eternities?

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent
without hope.

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent
without hope.

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the read more

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the greatest capacity of anything that
exists. They come and go like muffled and veiled figures sent
from a distant friendly party; but they say nothing, and if we do
not use the gifts they bring, they carry them as silently away.

Don't look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you'll know you're dead.

Don't look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you'll know you're dead.

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an read more

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands;
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all;
I, in my pleached garden watched the pomp
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I too late
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.