Little things that make big things. Brush strokes, that make paintings, that have something to teach us.
If you care for a senior, if you care about health care costs, if you care for people, then take the time to read this book. There it all is, beautifully written, laid out in plain language, the answer to so many of the problems that vex us.
The known universe…every star, every galaxy, every black hole, is just a marginal part of existence. The vast majority (96%) can be neither seen nor detected. Krishna’s “abode of the gods.” Are we there “now”?
My Mom, and millions of seniors like her, cannot have a taste of what relieved the suffering of the president of the United States. 1000 years from now, we’ll feel bad about that.
These writings and films open a window onto my personal journey on death. My hope is that by glimpsing through it you will find a blessing, and perhaps, a path to your own treasure.
There are some who, like Ophelia, fall into water and drown, their pale hands frantically waving inches below the glassy surface, as if to grasp the bright world beyond and pull it down around them. Those who breathe air and not water pass by and look, but cannot see what lies beneath.
There is a cost to war, measured in human life, and the victors possess the determination, perspective, and resolve to pay that cost for as long as it takes to win. We can, as humans, hold in one hand the horror, regret, and sadness that comes with the loss of life, while holding in the other the numb resolve to carry on.
To all my guests and listeners, you have my most sincere thanks for being the most important part of this experiment. My hope for you is all good. As for me? I don't know, but in some places, summer is endless.
Life. Taste it on your tongue. Harness the power of every moment. Feel every snowflake. Live with a vengeance, and you too will become…nearly superhuman.
I would dance the boogaloo in a pink tutu for a kernel of corn. Pathetic. It is yet another prayer God did not answer.