One should only celebrate a happy ending; celebrations at the outset exhaust the joy and energy needed to urge us forward and sustain us in the long struggle. And of all celebrations a wedding is the worst; no day should be kept more quietly and humbly.
The silence of the spheres is the music of a wedding feast. The more we persist in misunderstanding the phenomena of life, the more we analyze them out into strange finalities and complex purposes of our own, the more we involve ourselves in sadness. But it does not matter much because no despair of ours can alter the reality of things, or stain the joy of the cosmic dance which is always there.
In the West, Intellect is the source of life, In the East, Love is the basis of life. Through Love, Intellect grows acquainted with Reality, And Intellect gives stability to the work of Love, Arise and lay the foundations of a new world, By wedding intellect to Love.
It is popularly believed that our grandmothers were unathletic, but no girl who operated a parlour organ lacked exercise, pumping with her feet, clawing at the Vox Humana and Celeste stops with her hands and wagging her head to keep time. But the parlour organ went out when short skirts came in. Many a young fellow of the nineties, charmed by his girl's command of her organ, married her, only to discover on his wedding night that she had legs like an eight-day bicycle racer
Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.
Traditional words are just babbling in that presence, and babbling is a substitute for sight.
I’ve always had a passion to compete. Our story [Wal-Mart] proves that spirited competition is good for business.
Strange to say what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition.
Up and with my wife to church, where Mr. Mills made an unnecessary sermon on Original Sin, neither understood by himself, nor the people.
When the mind loses its feeling for elegance, it grows corrupt and groveling, and seeks in the crowd what ought to be found at home.
The basic ideas of investing are to look at stocks as business, use the market's fluctuations to your advantage, and seek a margin of safety. That's what Ben Graham taught us. A hundred years from now they will still be the cornerstones of investing.
Sit and be still until in the time of no rain you hear beneath the dry wind's commotion in the trees the sound of flowing water among the rocks, a stream unheard before, and you are where breathing is prayer.
Narcissus does not fall in love with his reflection because it is beautiful, but because it is his. If it were his beauty that enthralled him, he would be set free in a few years by its fading.
The writer's job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them.
Needless to say, the business of living interferes with the solitude so needed for any work of the imagination. Here's what Virginia Woolf said in her diary about the sticky issue: I've shirked two parties, and another Frenchman, and buying a hat, and tea with Hilda Trevelyan, for I really can't combine all this with keeping all my imaginary people going.
When people are happy they have a reserve upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre
All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man. But art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion? Much Ado About Nothing (Conrade at III, iii)
And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, forgetting any other home but this.
Come away, come away, Death, and in sad cypress let me be laid; fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, on my black coffin let there be strewn: not a friend, not a friend greet my poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there! Twelfth Night, Act ii, Scene 4, Feste, scene iv
In the intercourse of the world people should not take words as so much genuine coin of standard metal, but merely as counters that people play with.