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To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. read more
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
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An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
A devotee when soars the Host in sight,
An Arab with a stranger for a guest,
A sailor when the prize has struck in fight,
A miser filling his most hoarded chest,
Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping
As they who watch o'er what they love while sleeping.
Our joy is dead, and only smiles on us.
Our joy is dead, and only smiles on us.
How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone;
But those which soonest read more
How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone;
But those which soonest take their flight
Are the most exquisite and strong;
Like angel's visits short and bright,
Mortality's too weak to bear them long.
One joy shatters a hundred griefs
One joy shatters a hundred griefs
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
Cheerfulness is the very flower of health.
Cheerfulness is the very flower of health.
This is the true joy of life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty read more
This is the true joy of life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clot of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. . -George Bernard Shaw.
The joy late coming late departs.
The joy late coming late departs.
