Don H Blum - my quote collection

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Our ego is the environmental center of whatever objective bombardment enters it's sphere.. To separate 'self' from the 'externals' takes a lifetime of angst..

Lifes' essence is eternal beauty subdued by the job of living....
The moment that one person can merge with another without the barrier of matter nor ego, then the light of others will enjoin...
Could our minds have created the Universe by reflective perception?.
Those who think they think eventually become the herd...
The totality of the Universe is within ones' mind..many go out of their minds seeking themselves...
I am the ear of a silent orchestra listening to the music of your soul...
Souls don't wear clothes...
Being alive is a gift so rare, 'tis only for a twinkling of an eye but an eternity for the generations that you have touched....
When bound in time we notice the road but when we are the goal the path is behind us...
Every human being is living in a self afflicted state of anarchy veneered with civility...
Sadness is diminished by the illusion of happiness but the lessons are found in hope..
Even the duration of our years consists of only 'now' masked by the mirage of time..
During a conversation ones' peripheral thoughts demand more from the speaker than is focused upon the recipient....
Ones' self perceptions are a private crowd....
A conversation between two is like exchanging a seed, a writer plants it..
Eavesdropping miracles fade to the strobe of ones' ego...
Halloween should be the time we remove our masks and take the chance of being seen...
Ejected from paradise, the newborn screams betrayal for the rest of its' life..
A vast and private consciousness is on the other side of ones' face....
When art ignites the spiritual, language bows quietly, for 'truths' shall not lose the path...
We are born anew within every strangers' eye
Realize and visualize that every person was once a baby.. the swarm of adults have forgotten their moment.. but others can remind with compassion....
All of our senses are survival mechanisms, but 'tis the space between our thoughts that rarely reveals its' light through the static....
Children are closer to the memory of creation than those who evolve through the labyrinth of time...
Tis nice to be seen, not from the portrait drawn, but from the canvas upon...
Those in this world are merely congregations of 'us' from different starting points..
Verbosity is a necessity to those who have a problem translating what they think.....
Art is a language condensed through a brush....
Everyone is the center of their Universe, some with telescopes, some without...and some only with mirrors...
The flashlights' handle does not know of its' beam
Every day past your birthday is an amendment for continued blessings...
Hate and anger is fear born without spirtual intervention....
Language and art is a translation of what you think....
Minds were created before the architecture of vanity and money...
Wouldn't it be nice to be thanked for being alive?....
Given an infinite number of monkeys pecking upon an infinite number of typewriters, they would instantly create the accepted function of the human ego...
Time only goes by if you are not in the front seat enjoying the ride...
Within our source begins the divergence of form and thought, but to those that know we were one before we begun
Music is an archetypical rhythm resonating between two, then words evolved and the confusion began...
We are born into this world ignorant of the strings until we make our own, then we become surprised when they tangle...
There are those that would rather collect mirrors than to celebrate another's soul...
We sense and see what we believe to be..
The rude merely project the mirror of their soul..
Children are closer to the blessings of love and creation than those who evolve through the labyrinth of age....
One's illusion of their pious character is eternally destroyed by their wanton attack upon another...
Prayer, like love, never recedes to an appropriate time...
THE ONE THAT BURNS THEIR BRIDGE OF LOVE REFLECTS THE ANGER OF THEIR FRIGHTENED SOUL....
Soul intimacy must come first, the rest is just icing on the cake..
Tis better to emerge from anothers' soul than to just pop into their life....
Sleep is the reality of the body, consciousness is the trick of the mind...
Allow our eyes to peer so free,'ere others craft that which we see
There are some words that float on the mist of love, there are others which the speaker needs to hear..
Men dutifully furrow the ruts of their past..
As a rule, ones' apprehension causes more trauma than the event..
Self absorption and empathy for others are mutually exclusive
The rewards which one accrues for maintaining their facade are neuroses..
The intelligence of fear rationalizes cowardice and deceit..
As children mature into young adults they slowly realize that the Gods of their youth were merely well intentioned but flawed people.
One of the tragedies of life is the demise a loved one, the other is the loss of respect for a friend.
Many struggle to maintain their identity lest they disapoint others
One's character is revealed by their omissions of trust rather than self serving deeds.
Beyond the limits of our ephemeral vision lies the key to our eternal gifts
Levity is a rarity in this mortal deity
Genuis flows through the most improbable portals
Charismatic rhetoric is like the effects of a Coxwain upon the rowing team before they plummet over the falls...
The world is inhabited by the safety of the collective hunch.. those that question their existence and wonder at the masses' equanimity, need to break the barrier of the murmuring morality and become onto themselves... sacred selfishness is sound!
If it were not for conflict, we would have no need for dreams
What if the speed of light was not the same for everyone?
You are the only one thinking in your mind..
If ones' word or promise need be reminded, then they are neither..
As the rose woos the bee, so do I flow to thee..
Ones' ego only fools its' architect
The intelligence of the human cell works over time to heal the body in spite of its' host..
Time is all around in shrouds of endless goals, fast for happy hearts and slow for tortured souls
We are on the other end of our own leash
One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.
Never speak of yourself to others; make them talk about themselves instead; therein lies the whole art of pleasing. Everybody knows it, and everyone forgets it.
It is a rare person who wants to hear want he doesn't want to hear.
A person hears only what they understand.
It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.
Tricks and treachery are the practice of fools, that don't have brains enough to be honest.
The easiest way to be cheated is to believe yourself to be more cunning than others.
No one every listened themselves out of a job.
Brute force crushes many plants. Yet the plants rise again. The Pyramids will not last a moment compared with the daisy. And before Buddha or Jesus spoke the nightingale sang, and long after the words of Jesus and Buddha are gone into oblivion the nightingale still will sing. Because it is neither preaching nor commanding nor urging. It is just singing. And in the beginning was not a Word, but a chirrup.
Being born is like being kidnapped. And then sold into slavery.

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