And you weaken your love
And you hold it above your head
Success is a song of the heart, not a song of your bed
— The Paper Kites “Willow Tree March”
If you must mourn,
Don’t do it alone.
If you must leave,
Leave as though fire burns under your feet
If you must speak,
Speak every word as though it were unique
If you must die, sweetheart
Die knowing your life was my life’s best part
And if you must die,
Remember your life
— Keaton Henson “You”
“Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.”
“Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.”
“Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.”
― Mary Schmich of the Chicago Tribune “Wear Sunscreen” (1997)
I cnduo’t bvleiee taht I culod aulaclty uesdtannrd waht I was rdnaieg. Unisg the icndeblire pweor of the hmuan mnid, aocdcrnig to rseecrah at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mttaer in waht oderr the lterets in a wrod are, the olny irpoamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rhgit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whoutit a pboerlm. Tihs is bucseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey ltteer by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Aaznmig, huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghhuot slelinpg was ipmorantt! See if yuor fdreins can raed tihs too.
“Human nature will not flourish, any more than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generations, in the same worn-out soil. My children have had other birthplaces, and, so far as their fortunes may be within my control, shall strike their roots into unaccustomed earth.”
― Nathaniel Hawthorne, ‘The Scarlet Letter’ (1850)
You big ugly. You too empty. You desert with your nothing nothing nothing. You scorched
suntanned. Old too quickly. Acres of suburbs watching the telly. You bore me. Freckle silly
children. You nothing much. With your big sea. Beach beach beach. I’ve seen enough already. You dumb dirty city with bar stools. You’re ugly. You silly shopping town. You copy. You too far everywhere. You laugh at me. When I came this woman gave me a box of biscuits. You try to be friendly but you’re not very friendly. You never ask me to your house. You insult me. You don’t know how to be with me. Road road tree tree. I came from crowded and many. I came from rich. You have nothing to offer. You’re poor and spread thin. You big. So what. I’m small. It’s what’s in. You silent on Sunday. Nobody on your streets. You dead at night. You go to sleep too early. You don’t excite me. You scare me with your hopeless. Asleep when you walk. Too hot to think. You big awful. You don’t match me. You burnt out. You too big sky. You make me a dot in the nowhere. You laugh with your big healthy. You want everyone to be the same. You’re dumb. You do like anybody else. You engaged Doreen. You big cow. You average average. Cold day at school playing around at lunchtime. Running around for nothing. You never accept me. For your own. You always ask me where I’m from. You always ask me. You tell me I look strange. Different. You don’t adopt me. You laugh at the way I speak. You think you’re better than me. You don’t like me. You don’t have any interest in another country. Idiot centre of your own self. You think the rest of the world walks around without shoes or electric light. You don’t go anywhere. You stay at home. You like one another. You go crazy on Saturday night. You get drunk. You don’t like me and you don’t like women. You put your arm around men in bars. You’re rough. I can’t speak to you. You burly burly. You’re just silly to me. You big man. Poor with all your money. You ugly furniture. You ugly house. You relaxed in your summer stupor. All year. Never fully awake. Dull at school. Wait for other people to tell you what to do. Follow the leader. Can’t imagine. Workhorse. Thick legs. You go to work in the morning. You shiver on a tram.
― Ania Walwicz, ‘Australia’ (1981)
“An atheist believes that evolution is the result of chance. Theistic evolutionists believe God, having created the universe, let purposeless chance evolve life. A creationist, dismissing this hybrid view as absurd, contends that an intelligent creator creates complex machinery, such as a living body, deliberately.
In fact, by rigorous standards all three theories are metaphysical. This is because a theory of non-deliberate design (evolution) requires proof that no designer ever existed; a theory of deliberate design (creation) requires proof that a designer did exist. Theistic evolution, less logically, requires both proofs! But because the intelligence of a designer can be materially neither in a Boeing 707 nor a bacterium, it is a matter of inference. Neither of the above proofs is scientifically possible because the field of science is limited to the material realm. And therefore each theory of origin is metaphysical.”
― Michael Pitman, ‘Adam and Evolution’ (1984)