“If you stuff yourself full of poems, essays, plays, stories, novels, films, comic strips, magazines, music, you automatically explode every morning like Old Faithful. I have never had a dry spell in my life, mainly because I feed myself well, to the point of bursting. I wake early and hear my morning voices leaping around in my head like jumping beans. I get out of bed quickly, to trap them before they escape.”
~ Ray Bradbury
The most difficult road to ride is the road marked truth, honesty, love, and kindness. It’s often a lonely road. You’ll never regret taking it. In the end, you’ll shine.
Hanging around with naysayers, complainers, and angry people will rub off. Avoid them the same way one wants to avoid COVID. Hang out with optimists, can-do folks, and those who want to find ways through difficult subjects. You’ll add ten years to life and you’ll be much happier.
Work hard. Do what’s right. Help others. Have faith it will all turn out okay. It will. Stay strong.
“Write what you love, what truly piques your curiosity every day. I’ve met authors who have told me they were sick of the subject matter in their books by the time they came out. I’m so glad I don’t feel this way!
“I never tired of learning about the stories of strong women and finding a compelling way to tell those stories. I love to discuss the themes in the book—cultural standards, resilience, overcoming odds, equality, breaking barriers—so even when I’m tired, I’m always energized by the opportunity to have meaningful conversations around this work.” ~ Haley Shapley
Life is tough at times. We don’t have to like what’s been tossed at us. We have to stand up to it and do what is necessary to get through. Never quit.
Remember, it’s not over until you quit trying. It’s not over until pack it in. Keep working. Discard what doesn’t work, try something else. It’s not over. Never Quit!
Two Sides of War (All Wars)
Henry Grantland Rice
All wars are planned by older men
In council rooms apart,
Who call for greater armament
And map the battle chart.
But out along the shattered field
Where golden dreams turn gray,
How very young the faces were
Where all the dead men lay.
Portly and solemn in their pride,
The elders cast their vote
For this or that, or something else,
That sounds the martial note.
But where their sightless eyes stare out
Beyond life’s vanished toys,
I’ve noticed nearly all the dead
Were hardly more than boys.
“Here’s how I’m going to beat you. I’m going to outwork you. That’s it. That’s all there is to it.”
It’s the little that count. It’s an ‘I love you.’ It’s surprising a child with a visit to the ice cream shop. It’s surprising the person you live and spontaneously dancing. It’s the little things that add up to big things.
