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Our life runs down in sending up the clock. The brook runs down in sending up our life. The sun runs down in sending up the brook. And there is something sending up the sun. It is this backward motion toward the source, Against the stream, that most we see ourselves in, The tribute of the current to the source. It is from this in nature we are from. It is most us.
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I had a lovers quarrel with the world.
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The only certain freedom's in departure.
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All thought is a feat of association; having what's in front of you bring up something in your mind that you almost didn't know you knew.
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The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
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Haven't you heard, though, About the ships where war has found them out At sea, about the towns where war has come Through opening clouds at night with droning speed Further o'erhead than all but stars and angels And children in the ships and in the towns?
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You're searching, Joe, for things that don't exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and beginnings -- there are no such things. There are only middles.
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Poetry begins in trivial metaphors, pretty metaphors, "grace" metaphors, and goes on to the profoundest thinking that we have. Poetry provides the one permissible way of saying one thing and meaning another. People say, "Why don’t you say what you mean?" We never do that, do we, being all of us too much poets. We like to talk in parables and in hints and in indirections — whether from diffidence or some other instinct.
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There is absolutely no reason for being rushed along with the rush. Everybody should be free to go slow.
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I am sure I have heard this several times from places I can't recall, but it's not already in the Gaia Quotes database, so I add this profound insight from the fields of psychological healing and spiritual evolution. It sure has helped me.
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So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid.
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Nations like the Cuban and the Swiss Can never hope to wage a Global Mission. No Holy Wars for them. The most the small Can ever give us is a nuisance brawl.
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Possessing what we still were unpossessed by, Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
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A breeze discovered my open book and began to flutter the leaves to look.
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I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree and climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
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There is no arguing with him, for if his pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it.
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One of the lies would make it out that nothing Ever presents itself before us twice. Where would we be at last if that were so? Our very life depends on everything's Recurring till we answer from within.
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The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day.
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The jury consist of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.
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Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.
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I never feel more at home than at a ballgame.
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One of the hardest things in life to accept is a called third strike.
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The city is all right. To live in one Is to be civilized, stay up and read Or sing and dance all night and see sunrise By waiting up instead of getting up.
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If there is one thing in life that I have learned about life it is... it goes on.