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Time and again the sun sets like a bedimming curtain before my eyes, taking with it all illumination, warmth, and color. I am overwhelmed by night and the monsters that lurk in shadows of despair. But alas, stars twinkle from afar, shedding the tiniest rays of lighted hope. I am reminded that the sun also rises, and that morning's glory shall restore beauty to my world. The realization of this dream is only a matter of waiting out the dreary night. So, I shall persevere. ↗
Thinking back on it, this evening, with my heart and my stomach all like jelly, I have finally concluded, maybe that's what life life is about: there's a lot of despair, but also the odd moment of beauty, where time is no longer the same. It's as if those strains of music created a sort of interlude in time, something suspended, an elsewhere that had come to us, an always within never. Yes, that's it, an always within never. ↗
I honestly think in order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here? Let's think of reverence as awe, as presence in and openness to the world. The alternative is that we stultify, we shut down. Think of those times when you've read prose or poetry that is presented in such a way that you have a fleeting sense of being startled by beauty or insight, by a glimpse into someone's soul. All of a sudden everything seems to fit together or at least to have some meaning for a moment. This is our goal as writers, I think; to help others have this sense of -- please forgive me -- wonder, of seeing things anew, things that can catch us off guard, that break in on our small, bordered worlds. ↗
In South Africa, they dig for diamonds. Tons of earth are moved to find a little pebble not as large as a little fingernail. The miners are looking for the diamonds, not the dirt. They are willing to lift all the dirt in order to find the jewels. In daily life, people forget this principle and become pessimists because there is more dirt than diamonds. When trouble comes, don’t be frightened by the negatives. Look for the positives and dig them out. They are so valuable it doesn't matter if you have to handle tons of dirt. ↗
#perseverance #truth #value #beauty
He flipped it open, gently tugged out the oft-touched photo and looked into a pair of familiar golden eyes. "She's happy, Andie," he whispered to his wife. Andromeda Quinn did what she always did. She smiled back at him, her beautiful eyes lit with that bright, golden light Harold Quinn loved so fucking much. ↗
He had no fear for there was nothing to fear. He was going to a better place. Katie told him have no fear God had called him his was pain and suffering was to coming to an end. It was the next stage of their life together. This was a beautiful place where there was no pain and suffering but lots of Gods work to be done. As a social worker he had helped a lot of families in Kerry and his life had achieved a lot. Emma felt Katie’s presence and prayed to her to take him quickly he had suffered too much already. Ronan was on life support ↗
There really are two Americas, one for the grifter class and one for everybody else. In everybody-else land, the world of small businesses and wage-earning employees, the government is something to be avoided, an overwhelming, all-powerful entity whose attentions usually presage some kind of financial setback, if not complete ruin. In the grifter world, however, government is a slavish lapdog that the financial companies that will be the major players in this book use as a tool for making money. ↗
