D
Deleted member 82554
Guest
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
What's your favorite qoute?
- Thread starter Carbyne
- Start date
Stealtheart
Fuair siad bás ar son saoirse na hÉireann.
"If the Human brain were so simple we could understand it, we'd be so simple we couldn't."
Connor J. Coyote
Well-Known Member
A bird in the hand, is worth two in the bush.
GarthTheWereWolf
Captious Lycanthrope of Forum Legend
“Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.”
Poots The Fox
Look at the happy fox!
"Insanity, doing something over and over again expecting different results" - Unknown
F
fabio
Guest
Something along those lines: "Beauty cannot be defined by someone who doesn't know about imperfections: life is beautiful as long as you know it's not perfect."
Simo
Professional Watermelon Farmer
The Courage Of Shutting-Up
The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery!
The line pink and quiet, a worm, basking.
There are black disks behind it, the disks of outrage,
And the outrage of a sky, the lined brain of it.
The disks revolve, they ask to be heard—
Loaded, as they are, with accounts of bastardies.
Bastardies, usages, desertions and doubleness,
The needle journeying in its groove,
Silver beast between two dark canyons,
A great surgeon, now a tattooist,
Tattooing over and over the same blue grievances,
The snakes, the babies, the tits
On mermaids and two-legged dreamgirls.
The surgeon is quiet, he does not speak.
He has seen too much death, his hands are full of it.
So the disks of the brain revolve, like the muzzles of cannon.
Then there is that antique billhook, the tongue,
Indefatigable, purple. Must it be cut out?
It has nine tails, it is dangerous.
And the noise it flays from the air, once it gets going!
No, the tongue, too, has been put by,
Hung up in the library with the engravings of Rangoon
And the fox heads, the otter heads, the heads of dead rabbits.
It is a marvelous object—
The things it has pierced in its time.
But how about the eyes, the eyes, the eyes?
Mirrors can kill and talk, they are terrible rooms
In which a torture goes on one can only watch.
The face that lived in this mirror is the face of a dead man.
Do not worry about the eyes—
They may be white and shy, they are no stool pigeons,
Their death rays folded like flags
Of a country no longer heard of,
An obstinate independency
Insolvent among the mountains.
-Sylvia Plath, 1965
The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery!
The line pink and quiet, a worm, basking.
There are black disks behind it, the disks of outrage,
And the outrage of a sky, the lined brain of it.
The disks revolve, they ask to be heard—
Loaded, as they are, with accounts of bastardies.
Bastardies, usages, desertions and doubleness,
The needle journeying in its groove,
Silver beast between two dark canyons,
A great surgeon, now a tattooist,
Tattooing over and over the same blue grievances,
The snakes, the babies, the tits
On mermaids and two-legged dreamgirls.
The surgeon is quiet, he does not speak.
He has seen too much death, his hands are full of it.
So the disks of the brain revolve, like the muzzles of cannon.
Then there is that antique billhook, the tongue,
Indefatigable, purple. Must it be cut out?
It has nine tails, it is dangerous.
And the noise it flays from the air, once it gets going!
No, the tongue, too, has been put by,
Hung up in the library with the engravings of Rangoon
And the fox heads, the otter heads, the heads of dead rabbits.
It is a marvelous object—
The things it has pierced in its time.
But how about the eyes, the eyes, the eyes?
Mirrors can kill and talk, they are terrible rooms
In which a torture goes on one can only watch.
The face that lived in this mirror is the face of a dead man.
Do not worry about the eyes—
They may be white and shy, they are no stool pigeons,
Their death rays folded like flags
Of a country no longer heard of,
An obstinate independency
Insolvent among the mountains.
-Sylvia Plath, 1965
Mikazuki Marazhu
I hate you all
I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together
Kumali
Lupine-American
Long, but worth quoting in full:
~
Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’
- Bob Dylan, 1963
(Winner of the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature)
~
Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’
- Bob Dylan, 1963
(Winner of the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature)
Skychickens
Late Healer Ferret
Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit when there’s footprints on the moon.
Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you’ll land among the stars.
Fall seven times. Stand up eight.
The loneliest people are the kindest, The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.
((I have had a pretty rough time in my life and these have been so helpful))
Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you’ll land among the stars.
Fall seven times. Stand up eight.
The loneliest people are the kindest, The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.
((I have had a pretty rough time in my life and these have been so helpful))
Connor J. Coyote
Well-Known Member
"Whatever happens, happens".
I
Infrarednexus
Guest
"Those who are not willing to die for something are not fit to live"- Martin Luther King
D
Deleted member 82554
Guest
"While there is life, there is hope.”
~ Stephen Hawking.
~ Stephen Hawking.
"Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point. A chastity or honesty, or mercy, which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky.” - CS Lewis, The Screwtape Letters
Kellan Meig'h
Kilted Luthier
"Airman, did your mother send you here just to piss me off?!?"
Most Training Instructors (including me) at Lackland AFB basic training
"No, Patrick. Mayonnaise is not an instrument."
Squidward Tentacles to Patrick Starfish at Bikini Bottom band practice
"Get Off My Lawn!"
Walt Kovalski, 'Grand Torino'
"Hey, we don't want to drop this wrench down in the instrument panel. Go get us a fifty foot piece of flightline so we can pull it back up to us if we drop it."
Me to every BEEP (basic enlisted electronics personnel) that had the misfortune of working on a F4-D Phantom II front scope under my tutelage. There is no such thing as a fifty foot section of flightline. A flightline is where you park the aircraft.
Most Training Instructors (including me) at Lackland AFB basic training
"No, Patrick. Mayonnaise is not an instrument."
Squidward Tentacles to Patrick Starfish at Bikini Bottom band practice
"Get Off My Lawn!"
Walt Kovalski, 'Grand Torino'
"Hey, we don't want to drop this wrench down in the instrument panel. Go get us a fifty foot piece of flightline so we can pull it back up to us if we drop it."
Me to every BEEP (basic enlisted electronics personnel) that had the misfortune of working on a F4-D Phantom II front scope under my tutelage. There is no such thing as a fifty foot section of flightline. A flightline is where you park the aircraft.
D
Deleted member 82554
Guest
"you don't have rights, what you do have are choices."
- George Carlin.
- George Carlin.
Monsieur Doveteux
The Local Grammarian
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words are merely the smallest element of language capable of containing meaning and isolation and as such could never directly produce the 4,000 newtons of force per centimeter required to break bones.”
-Michael Stevens
-Michael Stevens