Tempus fugit

'The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on' —
    and only then do you find out if it goosed you in passing.

                Robert A. Heinlein, Farnham’s Freehold

 

 

 

 

Play on

Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced,
    not because it has been sober, responsible and cautious,
        but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature.

                    Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker 

 

 

 

 

 

Noblese oblige

The only thing in the world worth a damn is the strange,
touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit.

            John D. MacDonald, A Deadly Shade of Gold

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can't take it with you

Life is ours to be spent, not to be saved.

        D. H. Lawrence, The Captain's Doll

 

 

 

 

Preparation

The fool, with all his other faults, has this also,
        he is always getting ready to live.

                 Seneca, Letters from a Stoic

 

 

 

 

 

God is love

“God is love,” as Scripture says, and that means the revelation is in the relationship.
“God is love” means God is known devotionally, not dogmatically.
“God is love” does not clear up old mysteries; it discloses new mystery.
“God is love” is not a truth we can master; it is only one to which we can surrender.
Faith is being grasped by the power of love.

                William Sloane Coffin, Jr, Emmanuel sermon 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem: When I have fears that I may cease to be

When I have fears that I may cease to be

   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,

Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,

   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;

When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,

   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And think that I may never live to trace

   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

   That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

   Of unreflecting love—then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

                            John Keats