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Nothing in the world is more flexible and yielding than water. Yet when it attacks the firm and the strong, read more
Nothing in the world is more flexible and yielding than water. Yet when it attacks the firm and the strong, none can withstand it, because they have no way to change it. So the flexible overcome the adamant, the yielding overcome the forceful. Everyone knows this, but no one can do it.
If you wish to drown, do not torture yourself with shallow water.
If you wish to drown, do not torture yourself with shallow water.
The miller sees not all the water that goes by his mill.
The miller sees not all the water that goes by his mill.
Don't you realize that the sea is the home of water? All water is off on a journey unless it's read more
Don't you realize that the sea is the home of water? All water is off on a journey unless it's in the sea, and it's homesick, and bound to make its way home someday
'Tis rushing now adown the spout,
And gushing out below,
Half frantic in its joyousness,
read more
'Tis rushing now adown the spout,
And gushing out below,
Half frantic in its joyousness,
And wild in eager flow.
The earth is dried and parched with heat,
And it hath long'd to be
Released from out the selfish cloud,
To cool the thirsty tree.
And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves.
And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves.
It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est read more
It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est opus,
Igitur demum fodere puteum, ubi sitis fauces tedet.]
Reuben, thou art my firstborn, my might, and the beginnings of my
strength, the excellency of dignity, and the read more
Reuben, thou art my firstborn, my might, and the beginnings of my
strength, the excellency of dignity, and the excellency of power:
Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel; because thou wentest up
to thy father's bed; then defiledst thou it: he went up to my
couch.
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
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How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
. . . .
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.