#musings

In a world where thrushes sing and willow trees are golden in the spring, boredom should have been included among the seven deadly sins. ↗

— Elizabeth Goudge

#gratefulness #gratitude #musings #nature #seasons

But no matter what I do, it will always get me, bother me, and you know what this is, what gets me, and will continue to get me throughout my existence? It’s that we as humans will never know the results of the other choice. What would have happened if I chose that instead of this? Naturally, the results or consequences would probably be different, perhaps very different. More importantly, would the other option have been the better choice? We will never know. I will never know. And this will always get me. ↗

— Jack Serv

#nature

Justice will be found, said Plato, when everyone does their own job, and minds their own business ↗

— Martin Cohen

#business

...my boredom might be described as a malady affecting external objects and consisting of a withering process; an almost instantaneous loss of vitality--just as though one saw a flower change in a few seconds from a bud to decay and dust. ↗

— Alberto Moravia

#change

I have begun to wonder where I came from. The person I am now, this fumbling, stumbling supplicant... was I built on the foundations of my old life, or did I rise from the grave a blank state? How much of me is inherited, and how much is my own creation? Questions that were once just idle musings have begun to feel strangely urgent. Am I firmly rooted to what came before? Or can I choose to deviate? ↗

— Isaac Marion

#life #philosophical-musings #reflection #life

In days of doubt, in days of dreary musings on my country's fate, you alone are my comfort and support, oh great, powerful, righteous, and free Russian language! ↗

— Ivan Turgenev

#comfort #country #days #doubt #dreary

Some people make sharp distinctions sort of between their recreational musings and their professional work. I don't make that distinction very much. ↗

— Whitfield Diffie

#distinction #distinctions #i #make #much

I,' she began in her thoughts, as we all do when thinking of ourselves. But this I was her, something, someone whose life she really lived. She was this I, in body and soul, one with its very flesh, its memories, its past, present and future, all of which we seal into a single destiny each time we face ourselves and utter that tiny, unalterable word: 'I. ↗

— Dezső Kosztolányi

#musings #life

Knowing the true isolation of being marks the beginning of love for others. ↗

— Jack Sanger

#love

The Anticipation is annihilated by the act ↗

— KC Rhoads

#inspirational