Eagerly, musician,Sweep your string,So we may sing,Elated, optative,Our several voicesInterblending,Playfully contending,Not interferingBut co-inhering,For all withinThe cincture of the soundIs holy ground,Where all are Brothers,None faceless Others. Let mortals bewareOf words, forWith words we lie,Can say peaceWhen we mean war,Foul thought speak fairAnd promise falsely,But song is true:Let music for peaceBe the paradigm,For peace means to changeAt the right time,As the World-Clock,Goes Tick and Tock. So may the storyOf our human cityPresently moveLike music, whenBegotten notesNew notes beget,Making the flowingOf time a growing,Till what it could be,At last it is,Where even sadnessIs a form of gladness,Where Fate is Freedom,Grace and Surprise.
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Geng Lei was a famous archer of the state of Wei. One day while he was on an excursion outside the city with the King of Wei, he saw a bird circling in the sky. The King asked him to down the goose with an arrow. He answered: I don't have to use an arrow. I can just make the bird fall down from the sky with my arch. Do you have that marvellous skill? asked the King. Presently they saw the wild goose flying from the east. Geng Ying twanged the string of his bow and indeed the wild goose at once dropped to the ground in front of them. You're really a wonderful archer, said the King with approval. Geng Lei said, This is a wounded wild goose. From its desolate cry and tired flight you can see its wound has not yet healed. When it heard the twang of my bow-string, it thought it was again hit by an arrow and fell from the sky.
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Much of what we call evil is due entirely to the way men take the phenomenon. It can so often be converted into a bracing and tonic good by a simple change of the sufferer's inner attitude from one of fear to one of fight; its string can so often depart and turn into a relish when, after vainly seeking to shun it, we agree to face about and bear it...
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For ten years Caesar ruled with an iron hand. Then with a wooden foot, and finally with a piece of string.
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Remember God's bounty in the year. String the pearls of His favor. Hide the dark parts, except so far as they are breaking out in light! Give this one day to thanks, to joy, to gratitude!
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If winds are the spirit of the sky's ocean, the clouds are the texture. Their is easily the most uninhibited dominion of the earth. Nothing in physical shape is too fantastic for them. They can be round as apples or as fine as string, as dense as a jungle, as wispy as a whiff of down, as mild as puddle water or as potent as the belch of a volcano. Some are thunderous anvils formed by violent up drafts from the warm earth. Some are ragged coattails of storms that have passed. Some are stagnant blankets of warm air resting on cold. I have seen clouds in the dawn that looked like a pink Sultan with his pale harem maidens and a yellow slob of eunuch lolling impotent in the background.
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There was a blithe certainty that came from first comprehending the full Einstein field equations, arabesques of Greek letters clinging tenuously to the page, a gossamer web. They seemed insubstantial when you first saw them, a string of squiggles. Yet to follow the delicate tensors as they contracted, as the superscripts paired with subscripts, collapsing mathematically into concrete classical entities-- potential; mass; forces vectoring in a curved geometry-- that was a sublime experience. The iron fist of the real, inside the velvet glove of airy mathematics.
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Nature made us individuals, as she did the flowers and the pebbles; but we are afraid to be peculiar, and so our society resembles a bag of marbles, or a string of mold candles. Why should we all dress after the same fashion? The frost never paints my windows twice alike.
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Enthusiasm is everything. It must be taut and vibrating like a guitar string.
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'A string walked into a bar, hopped on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Disappointed, the string hopped down from the stool and went to the next bar. He hopped on the barstool and said, again, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' The string continued down the row of bars in this fashion. At every bar, he hopped on the barstool and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender at every bar in turn said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' Finally he got to the last bar in the area. He was tired, he was sweaty, all he wanted was a beer. He trudged inside, climbed on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' This bartender, too, said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Tired and angry, the string walked outside to think. He was a hard-working string. He deserved a beer. Finally, he came up with an idea. He had a passerby tie him up into a bow and frazzle his ends. Then he went back into the bar, and climbed up on the barstool. 'Bartender, gimme a beer!' he said loudly. The bartender looked him over critically, and finally yelled, 'Hey, aren't you that string that was in here a few minutes ago?' The string replied coolly, 'Nope, I'm a frayed knot.''
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'A string walked into a bar, hopped on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Disappointed, the string hopped down from the stool and went to the next bar. He hopped on the barstool and said, again, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' The string continued down the row of bars in this fashion. At every bar, he hopped on the barstool and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender at every bar in turn said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' Finally he got to the last bar in the area. He was tired, he was sweaty, all he wanted was a beer. He trudged inside, climbed on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' This bartender, too, said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Tired and angry, the string walked outside to think. He was a hard-working string. He deserved a beer. Finally, he came up with an idea. He had a passerby tie him up into a bow and frazzle his ends. Then he went back into the bar, and climbed up on the barstool. 'Bartender, gimme a beer!' he said loudly. The bartender looked him over critically, and finally yelled, 'Hey, aren't you that string that was in here a few minutes ago?' The string replied coolly, 'Nope, I'm a frayed knot.''
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The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.
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The longer I live,the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past,than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure,than successes, than what other people think or say or do.
It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past, we cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on one string we have, and that is our attitude...
I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.
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Take but degree away, untune that string, And hark what discord follows!...
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The remarkable thing we have is a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... We cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.
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The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts.... We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.
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Like a kite cut from the string, lightly the soul of my youth has taken flight
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Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is, When time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. And here have I the daintiness of ear To cheque time broke in a disorder'd string; But for the concord of my state and time Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. I wasted time, and now doth time waste me ; For now hath time made me his numbering clock: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
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About the only other thing I'd want would be a wider neck. My fingers are so fat that sometimes I deaden the string next to the one I'm fretting.
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After I changed the string we picked up right where we left off - and punched back in at the same time. I don't know if this has ever been done before. The engineer sort of looked at us weird, but we got it on the first take.
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For the sake of love of purity, the Bodhisattva should refrain from eating flesh, which is born of semen, blood, etc. For fear of causing terror to living beings let the Bodhisattva, who is disciplining himself to attain compassion, refrain from eating flesh... It is not true that meat is proper food and permissible when the animal was not killed by himself, when he did not order others to kill it, when it was not specially meant for him. Again, there may be some people in the future who ... being under the influence of the taste for meat will string together in various ways sophistic arguments to defend meat eating. But... meat eating in any form, in any manner, and in any place is unconditionally and once for all prohibited... Meat eating I have not permitted to anyone, I do not permit, I will not permit.
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I believe everyody in the world should have guns. Citizens should have bazookas and rocket launchers too. I believe that all citizens should have their weapons of choice. However, I also believe that only I should have the ammunition. Because frankly, I wouldn't trust the rest of the goobers with anything more dangerous than string.
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He who has been bitten by a snake fears a piece of string.
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The difference between farce and humour in literature is, I suppose, that farce strums louder and louder on one string, while humour varies it...
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A few can touch the magic string, and noisy fame is proud to win them: Alas for those that never sing, but die with all their music in them!
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Fly fishing may be a very pleasant amusement; but angling or float fishing I can only compare to a stick and a string, with a worm at one end and a fool at the other.
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I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness, sad as an eagle without wings, sad as a violin with only one string and one that is broken, sad as a woman who is growing old.
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Money is the string with which a sardonic destiny directs the motions of its puppets.
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A string of excited, fugitive, miscellaneous pleasures is not happiness; happiness resides in imaginative reflection and judgment, when the picture of one's life, or of human life, as it truly has been or is, satisfies the will, and is gladly accepted.
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A string of excited, fugitive, miscellaneous pleasures is not happiness happiness resides in imaginative reflection and judgment, when the picture of one's life, or of human life, as it truly has been or is, satisfies the will, and is gladly accepted.
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