I live on Earth at present, and I don't know what I am. I know that I am not a category. I am not a thing – a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process – an integral function of the universe.
If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could be better changed in ourselves
When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained But darlin' when I hold you Don't you know I feel the same 'Cause nothin' lasts forever And we both know hearts can change
And as you move on, remember me Remember us, and all we used to be I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile I've watched you sleeping for a while I'd be the father of your child I'd spend a lifetime with you I know your fears, and you know mine We've had our doubts, but now we're fine And I love you, I swear that's true I cannot live without you
Parting your soup is not a miracle Bruce, it's a magic trick. A single mom who's working two jobs, and still finds time to take her son to soccer practice, that's a miracle. A teenager who says "no" to drugs and "yes" to an education, that's a miracle. People want me to do everything for them. What they don't realize is they have the power. You want to see a miracle, son? Be the miracle.
I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled poets to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean.
The longer I live the more I see that I am never wrong about anything, and that all the pains I have so humbly taken to verify my notions have only wasted my time.
George Bernard ShawDer Spruch darf mit Autorenangabe frei verwendet werden, da die urheberrechtliche Schutzfrist abgelaufen ist († 2. November 1950) Zur Autorenbiographie
Geht dir die Luft aus, dann atme ich für dich und starrst du ins Leere, stell ich mich in deinen Blick ich schick dir in Seenot den Leuchtturm aufs offene Meer
Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars – points of light and reason. And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything.