Hindsight is the enchanted loom on which we weave the pattern of our destiny, threading together fragmentary memories and chance occurrences into a thing of cohesion, from which a shape and a story emerge — a story we call fate. Suddenly, we find in our past omens of our present — synchronicities that become signposts, pointing us to where we were always meant to go.
In this haunting sense of fatedness, the determinism of science and the predestination of spirituality converge.
— from The Marginalia by Maria Popova
- There’s Something About Me That Doesn’t Change, Hasn’t ChangedFor old people, beauty doesn’t come free with the hormones, the way it does for the young. It has to do with bones. It has to do with who the person is. More and more clearly it has to do with what shines through those gnarly faces and bodies. […] There’s something about me that… Read more: There’s Something About Me That Doesn’t Change, Hasn’t Changed
- Days Are DamsDays are dams. Each week posts a sign above the water. This week: Goodbye. Last week: The Possible. — Lily Brown from poem Venus Transit
- We’re Not On Our Journey To Save The World But To Save OurselvesWe’re not on our journey to save the world but to save ourselves. But in doing that, you save the world. The influence of a vital person vitalizes. — Joseph Campbell
- To Make Living Itself An Art, Is The GoalWhoever uses the spirit that is in him creatively is an artist.To make living itself an art, that is the goal. ― Henry Miller The whole life of the individual is nothing but the process of giving birth to himself; indeed, we should be fully born when we die — although it is the tragic fate of most… Read more: To Make Living Itself An Art, Is The Goal
- Every Heart BreaksEvery heart breaks, but not every heart breaks open. If my heart has to break, may it break open. — Rumi