Nothing can stop an idea whose time has come.
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| — | Victor Hugo |
It is not work that kills men, it is worry. Work is healthy; you can hardly put more on a man than he can bear. But worry is rust upon the blade. It is not movement that destroys the machinery, but friction.
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| — |
Henry Ward Beecher
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Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.
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| — | Antoine de Saint-Exupery via christinekane.com |
For the world you may be one person, but for one person - you may be the world.
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| — | The epigraph of Peter Reynold’s book I’m Here. |
It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.
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| — | Alan Cohen via Valley Ayurveda on Facebook |
Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.
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| — | Charles Swindoll via @tinybuddha on 21 July 2011 |
People who say it cannot be done should get out of the way of people who are doing it.
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| — | George Bernard Shaw |
I keep hoping, for all our sakes, that we might strike more of a balance between being and doing, between meeting the doing, between meeting the demands of life and pausing long enough to appreciate its sweet rewards. … A balanced life has rhythm. But we live in a time, and in a culture, that encourages everyone to just move faster. I’m learning that if i don’t take the time to tune in to my own more deliberate pace, I end up moving to some else’s, the speed of events around me setting a tempo that leaves me feeling scattered and out of touch with myself. … A close relationship with myself requires slowness … A good conversation can’t be hurried, it needs time in which to meander its way to revelation and insight. Even cooking dinner with care and attention is slow work. A thoughtful life is not rushed.
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| — | The Gift of an Ordinary Day, by Katrina Kenison |
Out here, beneath a sky slowly filling with stars, I stand on the threshold of some other world, a vast realm beyond my reach and understanding. And yet, what I feel is the opposite of loneliness, but rather a kind of deep acceptance, a sense of the intimacy and interconnectedness of all creation. Letting go, I am beginning to understand, is not just an idea or gesture, but a kind of spiritual maturation, a movement away from the physical realm and into a place of greater faith and mystery.
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| — | The Gift of an Ordinary Day, by Katrina Kenison |
