The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. HD Thoreau, Walden
Showing posts with label Diabetes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diabetes. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2019
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Sunday, April 22, 2018
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Monday, March 13, 2017
Monday, December 12, 2016
Monday, November 28, 2016
Monday, April 4, 2016
Monday, February 29, 2016
Jealousy
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-ey'd monster,
which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
-Shakespeare, Othello
It is the green-ey'd monster,
which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
-Shakespeare, Othello
Monday, December 21, 2015
Wiser Today
A man should never be ashamed to own
that he has been in the wrong,
which is but saying in other words
that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.
-Alexander Pope
Labels:
Diabetes
Monday, December 7, 2015
Bravery in Increments
When you have mastered numbers,
you will in fact no longer be reading numbers
any more than you read words when you read books.
You will be reading meaning.
W.E.B. DuBois
Monday, November 2, 2015
In the Shadow of the Black Horse
The Lord's mercy often rides to the door of our heart
upon the black horse of affliction.
- Charles Spurgeon
Monday, October 5, 2015
The Virtue of Displeasure
If you would attain to what you are not yet,
you must always be displeased by what you are.
For where you are pleased with yourself,
there you have remained.
Keep adding, keep walking, keep advancing.
-Saint Augustine
you must always be displeased by what you are.
For where you are pleased with yourself,
there you have remained.
Keep adding, keep walking, keep advancing.
-Saint Augustine
Monday, September 7, 2015
If There Were Only Joy
We could never learn to be brave and patient,
if there were only joy in the world.
-Helen Keller
Monday, August 10, 2015
The Summer Straddle
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.
I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Monday, May 25, 2015
Monday, February 23, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Monday, January 12, 2015
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