You are my ground and you are my rainbow. You are my butterfly and you are my ecstasy. You are the start of my journeys and always my destination. You are my home - the place to which I always return. - Jonathan Lockwood Huie
Life isn't a straight road, There is a curve called failure, A loop called confusion, Speed bumps called friends, Red lights called enemies, Caution signs called family, And sometimes you have a flat tire called jobs, But if you have a spare called determination, And the engine called perseverance, You'll make it to a place called success!!
Meaningful and joyful lives are lived by adhering to one's personal value system - one's principles. Today, write your six to eight most important values on an index card, and refer to that card as you go about your life today. Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined. - Henry David Thoreau
Take some time in a quiet place to contemplate the balance between being of service - both to this generation and to generations yet unborn - and renewing your vitality with play and celebration. Without play, one becomes old and dry. Without service, life becomes meaningless. - Jonathan Lockwood Huie
'Gentlemen, it is a fact that every philosopher of eminence for the last two centuries has either been murdered, or, at the least, been very near it, insomuch that if a man calls himself a philosopher, and never had his life attempted, rest assured there is nothing in him; and against Locke's philosophy in particular, I think it is an unanswerable objection (if we needed any) that, although he carried his throat about him in this world for seventy-two years, no man ever condescended to cut it.' - Thomas de Quincey, 'Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts'
Long long ago, on the banks of a river, there lived a monk. Right across the street from him, lived a prostitute. The monk always hated the fact that he had to live next door to the prostitute. He took every opportunity to rebuke her about her profession. He would take every opportunity to show her what a horrible person she was.
In his mind, he always compared himself with her and took big pride in the fact that he was accumulating so much good Karma compared to her.
The prostitute was a humble girl. She always respected the monk. She tried not to talk back when he was yelling at her. She felt bad about her choice of profession, but was not in a position to get out of it.
She would always try to listen when the monk prayed, hoping that listening God’s name would help her wash off some of her sins.
The monk kept on his routine of massaging his own ego by comparing himself to the prostitute. Eventually he got so obsessed that he kept a jar with him and for every one person who visited the prostitute, he dropped a pebble in the jar.
The prostitute kept her own routine. She was also watching what the monk was doing. She had a jar too. And every time the monk prayed, she put a pebble in the jar.
One day there was a big flood on the river. Both the monk and the prostitute were washed away and were dead. Upon their death, their souls stood in front of the God of death.
To everyone’s surprise, the God of death ordered the prostitute to go to heaven and the monk to go to hell. The monk could not believe this. “What an injustice. You can still find a jar in my house. I have kept count of how many times this prostitute sinned. How can she go to the heaven? There must be some mistake.”
The prostitute also added humbly “I think the monk is right. I don’t deserve to go the heaven. But he does. I have a jar where I kept count of the number of times I heard his prayer. He prayed a lot. So I think he should go to heaven and I should go to hell.”
The God of death smiled and said, "The judgement is correct. It does not matter what word is in your mouth. It matters only what is in your heart. The monk's heart was filled with the prostitute's sins while he was saying his prayers. While the prostitute's heart was filled with the love of God while engaged in a life of sin. The heart that has the love of God goes to Heaven and the heart that judges others and is filled with jealousy goes to hell.
For the first time in 40 years, more Mexicans are leaving the United States than are coming to it. Not because of our economy. Because they're sick and tired of explaining that Taco Bell isn't real Mexican food. - Conan O'Brien