#sings

Death may be the greatest of all human blessings. ↗

— Socrates

#death #greatest #human #may

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#darkness #own #poet #sings #sits

Men are slower to recognize blessings than misfortunes. ↗

— Titus Livius

#men #misfortunes #recognize #slower #than

Deciding to wait, Scott sat down with a pint away from the bar at a corner table and lit a cigarette. The clientele in there on Sunday afternoon were the same as most other afternoons. From middle-aged to old men, drinking and cursing at the world like it was the last bus which had just left the stop without them. ↗

— R.D. Ronald

#reflection #age

If you raise your children to feel that they can accomplish any goal or task they decide upon, you will have succeeded as a parent and you will have given your children the greatest of all blessings. ↗

— Brian Tracy

#any #blessings #children #decide #feel

Experience teaches us that we do not always receive the blessings we ask for in prayer. ↗

— Mary Baker Eddy

#ask #blessings #experience #prayer #receive

Instead of seeing these children for the blessings that they are, we are measuring them only by the standard of whether they will be future deficits or assets for our nation's competitive needs. ↗

— Jonathan Kozol

#blessings #children #competitive #deficits #future

Material blessings, when they pay beyond the category of need, are weirdly fruitful of headache. ↗

— Philip Wylie

#blessings #category #fruitful #headache #material

Old Man River! That seems far too austere a name For something made of mirth and rage. O, roiling red-blood river vein, If chief among your traits is age, You're a wily, convoluted sage. Is "old" the thing to call what rings The vernal heart of wester-lore; What brings us brassy-myth made kings (And preponderance of bug-type things) To challenge titans come before? Demiurge to a try at Avalon-once-more! And what august vitality In your wide aorta stream You must have had to oversee Alchemic change of timber beam To iron, brick and engine steam. Your umber whiskey waters lance The prideful sober sovereignty Of faulty-haloed Temperance And wilt her self-sure countenance; Yes, righteousness is vanity, But your sport's for imps, not elderly. If there's a name for migrant mass Of veteran frivolity That snakes through seas of prairie grass And groves of summer sassafras, A name that flows as roguishly As gypsy waters, fast and free, It's your real name, Mississippi. ↗

— Tracy J. Butler

#musings #poetry #age

God is always trying to give blessings to us, but our minds are usually too full to receive them. ↗

— Shannon L. Alder

#blessings #clouded-thoughts #confusion #delusions #doubt