No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #passion
In theory, the risk of business failure can be reduced to a number, the probability of failure multiplied by the cost of failure. Sure, this turns out to be a subjective analysis, but in the process your own attitudes toward financial risk and reward are revealed. By contrast, personal risk usually defies quantification. It's a matter of values and priorities, an expression of who you are. "Playing it safe" may simply mean you do not weigh heavily the compromises inherent in the status quo. The financial rewards of the moment may fully compensate you for the loss of time and fulfillment. Or maybe you just don't think about it. On the other hand, if time and satisfaction are precious, truly priceless, you will find the cost of business failure, so long as it does not put in peril the well-being of you or your family, pales in comparison with the personal risks of no trying to live the life you want today. Considering personal risk forces us to define personal success. We may well discover that the business failure we avoid and the business success we strive for do not lead us to personal success at all. Most of us have inherited notions of "success" from someone else or have arrived at these notions by facing a seemingly endless line of hurdles extending from grade school through college and into our careers. We constantly judge ourselves against criteria that others have set and rank ourselves against others in their game. Personal goals, on the other hand, leave us on our own, without this habit of useless measurement and comparison. Only the Whole Life Plan leads to personal success. It has the greatest chance of providing satisfaction and contentment that one can take to the grave, tomorrow. In the Deferred Life Plan there will always be another prize to covet, another distraction, a new hunger to sate. You will forever come up short. ↗
#passion #risk #status-quo #success #attitude
Should I, too, prefer the title of 'non-Jewish Jew'? For some time, I would have identified myself strongly with the attitude expressed by Rosa Luxemburg, writing from prison in 1917 to her anguished friend Mathilde Wurm: What do you want with these special Jewish pains? I feel as close to the wretched victims of the rubber plantations in Putamayo and the blacks of Africa with whose bodies the Europeans play ball… I have no special corner in my heart for the ghetto: I am at home in the entire world, where there are clouds and birds and human tears. An inordinate proportion of the Marxists I have known would probably have formulated their own views in much the same way. It was almost a point of honor not to engage in 'thinking with the blood,' to borrow a notable phrase from D.H. Lawrence, and to immerse Jewishness in other and wider struggles. Indeed, the old canard about 'rootless cosmopolitanism' finds a perverse sort of endorsement in Jewish internationalism: the more emphatically somebody stresses that sort of rhetoric about the suffering of others, the more likely I would be to assume that the speaker was a Jew. Does this mean that I think there are Jewish 'characteristics'? Yes, I think it must mean that. ↗
Those who say life is knocking them down and giving them a tough time are usually the first to beat themselves up. Be on your own side. ↗
The majority enjoy a young girl as they enjoy a glass of champagne, at one effervescent moment-oh, yes, that is really beautiful, and with many a young girl that is undoubtedly the most one can attain, but here there is more. If an individual is too fragile to stand clarity and transparency, well, then one enjoys what is unclear, but apparently she can stand it. The more devotedness one can bring to erotic love, the more interesting. This momentary enjoyment is a rape, even if not outwardly but nevertheless mentally, and in a rape there is only imagined enjoyment; it is like a stolen kiss, something nondescript. No, if one can bring it to a point where a girl has but one task for her freedom, to give herself, so that she feels her whole happiness in this, so that she practically begs for this devotedness and yet is free-only then is there enjoyment, but this always takes a discerning touch ↗
What you need to drive out an old passion, is a new passion, a greater passion. What you need is an over-mastering positive passion. [...] Just as Rachel was Jacob's over-mastering passion, the passion of his life, Jesus is our "Rachel". To the degree, that you see Jesus on the cross, loosing absolutely everything for you, He will become a beauty to you, He will become so beautiful in your eyes that you'll be able to change these things that control you now, they'll loose their power. Do you know how to work on your heart like that? It's only by rejoicing in and resting in what Jesus Christ has done for you. Then you can replace your idols. And if you really want to change and want to pound the Gospel more deeply into your heart - Jesus Christ must become your over-mastering positive passion. ↗
Oz: I spoke to Giles. He said I'll be okay. I just have to lock myself up around the full moon. Only he used more words than that. And a globe. Willow: I'm sorry about how all this ended up. With me shooting you and all. Oz: It's okay. I'm, I'm sorry I almost ate you. Willow: It's okay. I kind of thought you would have told me. Oz: I didn't know what to say. I mean, it's not everyday you find out you're a werewolf. That's fairly freaksome. It may take a couple days getting used to. Willow: Yeah. It's a complication. Oz: So...maybe it'd be best if I just... sorta... Willw: What? Oz: Well, you know, like, stayed out of your way for awhile. Willow: I don't know. I'm kind of okay with you being *in* my way. Oz: You mean, you'd still... Willow: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you don't smoke. Yeah okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either. ↗
By means of poetry all this suffering and effort could be transformed into dream; no matter how much of the ephemeral existed, poetry could immortalize it by turning it into song. Only two or three primitive passions had governed me until this time: fear, the struggle to conquer fear, and the yearning for freedom. But now two new passions were kindled inside me: beauty and the thirst for learning. ↗
Believe me, young lady, when I tell you that there is no place for you in his world of ghosts and nightmares — no place for your fresh beauty or your unmarred dreams, no place for your wonderful hope. He can bring you nothing, because he has lost everything. Don’t try to keep him, to tie him down, because if you succeed, if he weakens, he will hate you for it. Let him be. He is not unhappy; he is resigned. He has surrendered and acquired at a high cost a deep understanding of life. ↗
Some people have at least one person, that *special* somebody, that sees them as the cutest, most handsome, and most beautiful person in the world; inside and out. There's nothing or no one that can stop that person from seeing that person that way. All that special somebody does is think about the one they desire and ways to make them happy and smile. They feind and feed off that person's touch; even the touch of their eyes on their skin. It's like the whole world around them fades and there's nothing else they see. Nothing else they even WANT to see. They want that person to like them, love them, and desire and long for them the way they do. They see this person and once again believe that "happily ever afters" can exist. They convulse with the creativity for romance and new ideas and ways to put a smile on their desired one's face. The want and need to share their deepest thoughts and feelings oozing from every pore on their skin. The essence of their presence leaves the thickest aura of passion in the air around them. If they had them, nothing else in this world would matter. To have anything even *similar* to this with someone is to have everything you'll ever need in a lover or some you find intimately significant. When or IF I ever find this, the words will never be associated with me again ↗
I tell you I must go!” I retorted, roused to something like passion. “Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton?—a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong!—I have as much soul as you,—and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh;—it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal,—as we are! ↗
