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A man should pray for the welfare of him who gives him employment.

Our work keeps us free of three great evils: boredom, vice, and poverty.
Employment is a source of happiness, especially when you are usefully employed. An industrious person is always a happy person, provided he is not obliged to work too hard; and even where you have cause for unhappiness, nothing makes you forget it so soon as an occupation.
A little integrity is better than any career.
I have found out that whatever a man is during the first six weeks after he gets a job, he will be the same after 60 years and no amount of advice will have any effect whatsoever in changing him. When he is 21 years of age, he is set for life and if a dullard then he will continue so through life. The main quality for success in my estimation is ambition and a will for work.
Most of us are doing two things--that by which the body is kept alive, and that by which the higher part of our nature lives. We go to the job to pay expenses and then we indulge ourselves in what we like to do and maybe are meant to do. The whole secret of a successful life is to find out what it is one's destiny to do, and then do it.
The natural thing to do is to work--to recognize that prosperity and happiness can be obtained only through honest effort. Human ills flow largely from attempting to escape from this natural course. . . . I take it for granted that we must work. All that we have done comes as the result of a certain insistence that since we must work it is better to work intelligently and forehandedly; that the better we do our work the better off we shall be.
Nearly all young people who go into the world in order to exchange their talents for a livelihood begin as employees. And most of them remain employees to the end of their working days. That is to say, the great majority of us are dependent upon the approval and the goodwill of somebody else for the safety of our existence in that dangerous and shifting piece of human mechanism we call society.
You have but to hold forth in cap and gown, and any gibberish becomes learning, all nonsense passes for sense.
The great object of Education should be commensurate with the object of life. It should be a moral one; to teach self-trust: to inspire the youthful man with an interest in himself; with a curiosity touching his own nature; to acquaint him with the resources of his mind, and to teach him that there is all his strength, and to inflame him with a piety towards the Grand Mind in which he lives. Thus would education conspire with the Divine Providence.
Gambol and song and jubilee are done, Life's motley pilgrimage must be begun;--Another scene is crowding on the last,--Perhaps a darkened picture of the past; And we, who leave Youth's fairy vales behind, Where Joy hath hailed us on the summer wind, Would fain, with fond delay, prolong the hour, Which sternly strikes at Friendship's golden power.
Remember that a man is valuable in our day for what he knows and that his company will always be desired by others in exact proportion to the amount of intelligence and instruction he brings with him.
For the development of the race depends on the development of the individual, and where self-culture has ceased to be the ideal, the intellectual standard is instantly lowered, and, often, ultimately lost. If you meet at dinner a man who has spent his life in educating himself--a rare type in our time, I admit, but still one occasionally to be met with--you rise from table richer, and conscious that a high ideal has for a moment touched and sanctified your days.
For it must be known, Reader, that when the Gentle Youth break out of High School they not only Launch on the Tempestuous Sea, but they also begin to climb the ladder of Fame and hike up the toilsome Mountain-side and go into the waiting Harvest Field, all at the same time. . . . I will now ask you to come up and get your Sheepskins. Take this precious Certificate home and put it in a Dark, Cool Place. A few Years hence when you are less Experienced, it will give you a Melancholy Pleasure to look at it and Hark back to the Time when you knew it all. Just one Word in Parting. Always count your Change, and if you can't be Good, be Careful.
Year after year stereotyped, perfunctory commencements which are projects of the administration rather than of the graduates themselves point to the schools that are not utilizing the unique opportunity presented by the commencement season to bring secondary education to an inspiring climax. That the seniors do not comprehend the full significance of their graduation is revealed by their questioning the application of the word "Commencement" to an event which, to them, symbolizes something completed and terminated.
The mistake that others make, and that I trust you will never make, is to treat education as a chore instead of a joy; to treat graduation as an end of education rather than as a beginning.
Now, I could have said something very profound today, but you would have forgotten it in ten minutes; so I chose to give this kind of speech instead so that in twenty years from now when your children ask you what you did on graduation day, you can proudly say, "I laughed."
"Commencement speakers," said Father Flynn, "should think of themselves as the body at an old-fashioned Irish wake. They need you in order to have the party, but nobody expects you to say very much."
Summing up, it is clear the future holds great opportunities. It also holds pitfalls. The trick will be to avoid the pitfalls, seize the opportunities, and get back home by six o'clock.
The commencement oratory which floods the land every June may be an effective anesthetic which youth may take at its second birth, out of the solid, unyielding, factual environment of childhood and of books, out of the substantial fabric of the curriculum with its sure reward of grade, class standing, and satisfying compensation, into the bewildering, hazy and altogether ironic mockeries that we call, in humorous euphony, real life.
You're leaving college now, and going out into real life. And you have to realize that real life is not like college. Real life is like high school.
I find it much easier to bear a suit of armor all one's life than a virginity; and the vow of virginity is the most noble of all vows, as being the hardest.
It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost. 'Tis too cold a companion; away with 't!
Against diseases here the strongest fence Is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
So putting the Purse into my Bosom, I made no more Resistance to him, but let him do just what he pleas'd; and as often as he pleas'd; and thus I finish'd my own Destruction at once, for from this Day, being forsaken of my Virtue, and my Modesty, I had nothing of Value left to recommend me, either to God's Blessing, or Man's Assistance.
No, no; for my virginity, When I lose that, says Rose, I'll die: Behind the elms, last night, cried Dick, Rose, were you not extremely sick?
Have you the assurance to pretend, that when a lady demeans herself to throw aside the rules of decency, in order to honour you with the highest favour in her power, your virtue should resist her inclination? That when she had conquer'd her own virtue, she should find an obstruction in yours?
A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering, "I will ne'er consent"--consented.
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth Must be consumed with the Earth To rise from Generation free.
But when I saw it on its mother's arm, And hanging at her bosom (she the while Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile) Then I was thrill'd and melted, and most warm Impressed a father's kiss.
Out of the dark sweet sleep Where no dreams laugh or weep Borne through bright gates of birth Into the dim sweet light Where day still dreams of night While heaven takes form on earth White rose of spirit and flesh, and lily of love, What note of song have we Fit for the birds and thee, Fair nestling couched beneath the mother-dove?
Birth, and copulation, and death. I've been born, and once is enough. You dont remember, but I remember, Once is enough.
I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. "All right," I said, "I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."
And I was fascinated to discover that far from being "ten times worse than the worst pain you ever had" (as our childless woman doctor had told us in college) or "worse than the worst cramps you ever had, but at least you get something out of it" (as my mother had said), the pains of childbirth were altogether different from the enveloping effects of other kinds of pain. These were pains one could follow with one's mind; they were like a fine electric needle outlining one's pelvis.
Your birth is not an accident; G-d chooses each of us to fulfill a specific mission in this world, just as a composer arranges each musical note. Take away even one note, and the entire composition is affected. Each person matters; each person is irreplaceable.
Women perceive the child's first movement with varied feelings, this kick delivered at the portals of the world, against the uterine wall that shuts him off from the world. One woman is lost in wonder at this signal announcing the presence of an independent being; another may feel repugnance at containing a stranger.
We are not to talk about having babies, because that is not part of the experience of men and so nothing to do with reality, with civilization, and no concern of art.--A rending scream in another room.
I wish him good and constant health, His father's learning, but more wealth, And that to use, nor hoard; a purse Open to bless, not shut to curse. May he have many and fast friends, Meaning good will, not private ends, Such as scorn to understand When they name love, a piece of land.
If in the whole course of a woman's sensitive life there is one moment of happiness more keen, blissful, bright, than another, it is that in which the husband of her choice thanks her for his firstborn child.
Tew look upon the trak that life takes--tew see the sunshine and shower--tew plead for the best, and shrink from the wust--tew shudder when sikness steals on, and tew be chastened when death comes--tiz this--oh! tiz this that makes the fust baby a hope upon arth, and a gem up in heaven.
For some reason the most important thing to me was actually seeing the baby come out of you yourself and making sure it was yours. I thought if you had to have all that pain anyway you might just as well stay awake. I had always imagined myself hitching up on to my elbows on the delivery table after it was all over--dead white, of course, with no makeup and from the awful ordeal, but smiling and radiant, with my hair down to my waist, and reaching out for my first little squirmy child and saying its name, whatever it was.
Oh, I wish I could completely explain how I feel about having a baby. It's that procreation is the greatest miracle of all, and you are participating in it, contributing to it--as animals must do, as the grizzly bears must do because they kill to protect their cubs. You feel an affinity with all the vast things in the world since time began. And you feel so small. Procreation is like the tide, it's like the planets it's like everything inexplicable. And yet it's so utterly personal.
Most innovations in science, especially radical ones, have been initiated and championed by laterborns. Firstborns tend to reject new ideas, especially when the innovation appears to upset long-accepted principles.
It is so difficult to anticipate bringing home an invader of the love affair that one has created with the first child.
Studies made on first children say they're not all that bad. They are usually shy, serious and sensitive, are academically superior and are more likely to be an Einstein. Second children, on the other hand, are relaxed, independent, cheerful, learn toward creativity and are more likely to be Picasso. No one has had the courage to find--let alone study--child Number 3 and the ones who follow, whom I call et ceteras.
More fool than I to look on that was lent, As if mine own, when thus impermanent.
Oh tell, rude stone! the passer by, That here the pretty babe doth lie, Death sang to sleep with Lullaby.
Riddle of destiny, who can show What thy short visit meant, or know What thy errand here below? Shall we say, that Nature blind Check'd her hand, and changed her mind, Just when she had exactly wrought A finish'd pattern without fault?
Still mine! maternal rights serene Not given to another! The crystal bars shine faint between The souls of child and mother.
One young life lost, two happy young lives blighted, With earthward eyes we see; With eyes uplifted, keener, farther-sighted, We look, O Lord, to Thee.
Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee, With promise of strength and manhood full and fair! Though cold and stark and bare, The bloom and the charm of life doth awhile remain on thee.
For the old, it is a never-ending grief to lose those who are younger than themselves and whom they associate with their own future, above all if they are their children, or if they have brought them up: the death of a child, of a small child, is the sudden ruin of a whole undertaking; it means that all the hopes and sacrifices centred upon him are pointless, utterly in vain.
Those that do teach young babes Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
A good village primary school ought to be a cross between a nursery and a play-room; and the teacher ought to be playmate, nurse, and mother, all combined.
And this was the cause of my suffering when I was sent to school. For all of a sudden I found my world vanishing from around me, giving place to wooden benches and straight walls staring at me with the blank stare of the blind. But the legend is that eating of the fruit of knowledge is not consonant with dwelling in paradise. Therefore men's children have to be banished from their paradise into a realm of death dominated by the decency of a tailoring department. So my mind had to accept the tight-fitting encasement of the school which, being like the shoes of a mandarin woman, pinched and bruised my nature on all sides and at every movement.
Why, she asked, pressing her chin on James's head, should they grow up so fast? Why should they go to school? She would have liked always to have had a baby.
The idea of entering upon a life of my own intoxicated me. Until now I had been growing up on the fringe of adult life, as it were; from now on I should have my satchel, my textbooks, my exercise books and my homework.
I don't remember my first day at school, who the teacher was, or how I behaved. It was only during my second year that school and books and a beautiful teacher named Mary Lee Hall, brought it all alive. I loved it all because I thought she did.
Surely there were other important Julys scattered throughout those many years. For instance, that month of my fifth year was when I realized I had to go to school in September. It was a prospect I dreaded, believing in my heart that I was already sufficiently educated by Central Park, by the books I had read since I was three and a half, and by the disruptive arrival that year of a baby sister who taught me terrible lessons in displacement, resentment, hatred.
What if they mispronounce my last name and everyone laughs? What if my teacher doesn't make her D's like Mom taught me? What if I spend the whole day without a friend?
we pray you will learn easily in this new place you will laugh and share loving people other than us.
There are three things the gentleman should guard against. In youth when the blood and ch'i are still unsettled he should guard against the attraction of feminine beauty. In the prime of life when the blood and ch'i have become unyielding, he should guard against bellicosity. In old age when the blood and ch'i have declined, he should guard against acquisitiveness.
The happiest time in my life was when I was twelve years old. I was just old enough to have a good time in the world, but not old enough to understand any of its troubles.
Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he's only trying on one face after another till he finds his own.
The principal of our adolescents' difficulties are the presence of conflicting standards and the belief that every individual should make his or her own choices, coupled with a feeling that choice is an important matter.
Anything can happen in adolescence. It is always a risky time. Ugly ducklings can sometimes change into swans. The reverse is equally possible. The best-brought-up child is taken over by powers as divorced from daily habits as earthquakes.
My body was changing, and my life was changing too: my past was being left behind.
When Jeffrey turned fourteen and Matilda twelve, they had begun to change; to grow rude, coarse, selfish, insolent, nasty, brutish, and tall. It was as if she were keeping a boarding house in a bad dream, and the children she had loved were turning into awful lodgers--lodgers who paid no rent, whose leases could not be terminated.
The curse had come upon me. My friend Isobel said I would die if I had a bath. I got pulsating spots on my chin, my back was solid with acne, and you had to buy sanitary towels from men in chemists. How did St. Joan manage? All that armour. How did Pavlova, when she danced Swan Lake in that plate-like tutu? Who invented tampons? Have they been knighted?
Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. I just told my mother I want a bra. Please help me grow God. You know where. I want to be like everyone else.
If you are a girl, worry that your breasts are too round. Worry that your breasts are too pointed. Worry that your nipples are the wrong color. Worry that your breasts point in different directions. If you are a boy, worry that you will get breasts. . . . If you are a boy, worry that you'll never be able to grow a mustache. . . . If you are a girl, worry that you have a mustache.
There is perhaps, for all concerned, no period of life as unpleasant, so unappealing, so downright unpalatable, as that of adolescence. And while pretty much everyone who comes into contact with him is disagreeably affected, certainly no one is in for a ruder shock than the actual teenager himself. Fresh from twelve straight years of uninterrupted cuteness, he is singularly unprepared to deal with the harsh consequences of inadequate personal appearance.
My adolescence progressed normally: enough misery to keep the death wish my usual state, an occasional high to keep me from actually taking the gas-pipe.
Something dramatic happens to girls in early adolescence. Just as planes and ships disappear mysteriously into the Bermuda Triangle, so do the selves of girls go down in droves. They crash and burn in a social and developmental Bermuda Triangle.
ACADEME, n. An ancient school where morality and philosophy were taught. ACADEMY, n. (from academe). A modern school where football is taught.
It's full of phonies, and all you do is study so that you can learn enough to be smart enough to be able to buy a goddam Cadillac some day, and you have to keep making believe you give a damn if the football team loses, and all you do is talk about girls and liquor and sex all day, and everybody sticks together in these dirty little goddam cliques.
In this quiet little pond, encouraged by doting teachers, we felt successful and shining in some way, but once graduated we would disappear into the crowd of faceless adults and be like everyone else, old, a little tired, disappointed, and things not work out. College would be too hard and flunk us; the Army would unmask us as cowards; marriage would turn sour and love would die. One way or another, we would find disgrace, as others had.
A man at sixteen, will prove a child at sixty.
People are, in general, what they are made, by education and company, from fifteen to five-and-twenty.
Although I was sixteen years of age, and although I was treated with indulgence and affection, I was still but a bird fluttering in the network of my Father's will and incapable of the smallest independent action.
You are sixteen, going on seventeen, Baby, it's time to think! Better beware, be canny and careful, Baby, you're on the brink!
Most people . . . fix the prime of a man's life somewhere about thirty or thirty-five. Personally . . . I should place it at between fifteen and sixteen. It is then, it always seems to me, that his vitality is at its highest; he has greatest sense of the ludicrous and least sense of dignity. After that time, decay begins to set in. Possibly he attains to the "ungainly wisdom" of the Sixth Form and in that languorous atmosphere drinks deep of the opiate of specialization; possibly he attains to some abnormal form of muscular development and in his gyrations upon the football field loses his sense of the ludicrous; possibly he attains to an official position in the school and loses that still greater gift, his sense of humor.
After sixteen--this is it--for life. The chances are good you won't like it.
You're sixteen, you're beautiful and you're mine.
I hope you come to find that which gives life a deep meaning for you . . . something worth living for, maybe even worth dying for . . . something that energizes you, enthuses you, enables you to keep moving ahead.
Sweet sixteen ain't that peachy keen.
Give a girl an education, and introduce her properly into the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well, without farther expense to anybody.
What causes young people to "come out," but the noble ambition of matrimony? What sends them trooping to watering-places? What keeps them dancing till five o'clock in the morning through a whole mortal season? . . . What causes respectable parents to take up their carpets, set their houses topsy-turvy, and spend a fifth of their year's income in ball suppers and iced champagne? Is it sheer love of their species, and an unadulterated wish to see young people happy and dancing? Psha! they want to marry their daughters.
In Victorian days, when young girls up to the age of about eighteen were closely guarded at home, their debuts or formal introduction to their parents' friends in society had real meaning. . . . Today, however, with most girls going on to college, the debut when it occurs is merely a break in the educational procedure. It is rather meaningless now as an announcement that the girl is on the marriage market, for with four years ahead of her of increasingly difficult college courses, the girl, if she is sensible, awaits the completion of her education before marrying.
When first the college rolls receive his name, The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame; Through all his veins the fever of renown Burns from the strong contagion of the gown. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
An assemblage of learned men, zealous for their own sciences, and rivals of each other, are brought, by familiar intercourse and for the sake of intellectual peace, to adjust together the claims and relations of their respective subjects of investigation. They learn to respect, to consult, to aid each other. Thus is created a pure and clear atmosphere of thought, which the student also breathes, though in his own case he only pursues a few sciences out of the multitude.
Colleges . . . have their indispensable office,--to teach elements. But they can highly serve us when they aim not to drill, but to create; when they gather from far every ray of various genius to their hospitable halls, and by the concentrated fires, set the hearts of their youth on flame.
There is only one valid reason for sending a boy to college, and that is, so he can discover for himself that there is nothing in it. A college degree, as matters now stand, is like a certificate of character--useful only to those who need it. However, there must surely come a time when degrees will be given only to those who can earn a living--and this degree will be signed by the young man's employer.
And we all praise famous men--Ancients of the College; For they taught us common sense--Tried to teach us common sense--Truth and God's Own Common Sense Which is more than knowledge!
Would I send a boy to college? Well, at the age when a boy is fit to be in college I wouldn't have him around the house.
The function of the Negro college, then, is clear: it must maintain the standards of popular education, it must seek the social regeneration of the Negro, and it must help in the solution of problems of race contact and co-operation. And finally, beyond all this, it must develop men. . . . There must come a loftier respect for the sovereign human soul that seeks to know itself and the world about it; that seeks a freedom for expansion and self-development; that will love and hate and labor in its own way, untrammeled alike by old and new.
What an Oxford tutor does is to get a little group of students together and smoke at them. Men who have been systematically smoked at for four years turn into ripe scholars. If anybody doubts this, let him go to Oxford and he can see the thing actually in operation. A well-smoked man speaks and writes English with a grace that can be acquired in no other way.
The old college is no doubt gone and we could not bring it back if we would. But it would perhaps be well for us if we could keep alive something of the intimate and friendly spirit that inspired it.
I approached the idea of college with the expectation of taking part in an intellectual feast. . . . In college, in some way that I devoutly believed in but could not explain, I expected to become a person.
I learned three important things in college--to use a library, to memorize quickly and visually, to drop asleep at any time given a horizontal surface and fifteen minutes. What I could not learn was to think creatively on schedule.
College ain't so much where you been as how you talk when you get back.
People will come up to you on the street and say, "Does a paramecium beat its flagella?" or "How many wheels has a fiacre?" or "When does an oryx mate?" and if you have not been to college, you simply cannot answer them.
Demand of your teachers and yourself not merely information but a way of learning that you can use every day for the rest of your life. It is what we professors promise, and sometimes even deliver: the secret of how to learn by discovering things on your own--learn not by asking but by finding out on your own.
When I climbed down from the bus in front of the Student Union I realized that there were 30,000 students at the University of Michigan and I did not know one.
Peter said "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." It is the most natural and most human and most agonizing prayer in the gospels, and I think it is the foundation prayer of faith.
You know I ain't never prayed before 'Cause it always seemed to me That prayin's the same as beggin' Lord, I don't take no charity.
Give me women, wine, and snuff Until I cry out "hold, enough!" You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection.
Boldness in sinning is somewhat compensated and bridled by boldness in confession. Whoever would oblige himself to tell all, would oblige himself not to do anything about which we are constrained to keep silent.
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
People are utterly wrong in their slant upon things. They see the successes that men have made and somehow they appear to be easy. But that is a world away from the facts. It is failure that is easy. Success is always hard. A man can fail in ease; he can succeed only by paying out all that he has and is. It is this which makes success so pitiable a thing if it be in lines that are not useful and uplifting.
I had trouble as a competitor because I kept wanting to fight the other player every time I started to lose a match. . . . After a while I began to understand that you could walk out on the court like a lady, all dressed up in immaculate white, be polite to everybody, and still play like a tiger and beat the liver and lights out of the ball.
To be a great champion you must believe you are the best. If you're not, pretend you are.
One is always more vexed at losing a game of any sort by a single hole or ace, than if one has never had a chance of winning it.
The probability that we may fall in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just; it shall not deter me.
The victor shall soon be the vanquished, if he relax in his exertion; and that the vanquished this year, may be victor the next, in spite of all competition.
In all failures, the beginning is certainly the half of the whole.
How fascinating all failures are!
Do not mistake your objection to defeat for an objection to fighting, your objection to being a slave for an objection to slavery, your objection to not being as rich as your neighbor for an objection to poverty. The cowardly, the insubordinate, and the envious share your objections.
There may be a few things about a success that haint generally known, but ther's never no secrets about a failure.
Look, victory and defeat ain't bound to be same for the big shots up top as for them below, not by any means. Can be times the bottom lot find a defeat really pays them. Honour's lost, nowt else. . . . As a rule you can say victory and defeat both come expensive to us ordinary folk. Best thing for us is when politics get bogged down solid.
I coulda had class! I coulda been a contender! I coulda been somebody! Instead of a bum which is what I am! Let's face it! . . . He gets the title shot outdoors in the ball park and whadda I get? A one-way ticket to Palookaville.
In a game, just losing is almost as satisfying as just winning. . . . In life the loser's score is always zero.
All men are mortal, and therefore all men are losers; our profoundest loyalty goes out to the failed.
There are more quarrels smothered by just shutting your mouth, and holding it shut, than by all the wisdom in the world.
Only that man's prayer is answered who lifts his hands with his heart in them.
O ye who believe! When ye rise up for prayer, wash your faces, and your hands up to the elbows, and lightly rub your heads and (wash) your feet up to the ankles. And if ye are unclean, purify yourselves. . . . Allah would not place a burden on you, but He would purify you and would perfect His grace upon you, that ye may give thanks.
From needing danger to be good, From owing thee yesterday's tears today, From trusting so much to thy blood That in that hope we wound our souls away, From bribing thee with alms to excuse Some sin more burdenous, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lord, deliver us.
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love All pray in their distress; And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.
I own that I am disposed to say grace upon twenty other occasions in the course of the day besides my dinner. I want a form for setting out upon a pleasant walk, for a moonlight ramble, for a friendly meeting, or a solved problem. Why have we none for books, these spiritual repasts--a grace before Milton--a grace before Shakespeare--a devotional exercise proper to be said before reading The Fairie Queene ?
Almost every human being, however vague his notions of the Power addressed, is capable of being lifted and solemnized by the exercise of public prayer.
Prayer is often an argument of laziness: "Lord, my temper gives me a vast deal of inconvenience, and it would be a great task for me to correct it; and wilt thou be pleased to correct it for me, that I may get along easier?" If prayer was answered under such circumstances, independent of action of natural laws, it would be paying a premium on indolence.
Prayer draws us near to our own souls, and purifies our thoughts.
There's something in it when a body like the widow or the parson prays, but it don't work for me, and I reckon it don't work for only just the right kind.
PRAY, v. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.
I added that he said we ought to pray for things we needed and that I needed the humming top a great deal more than I did the conversion of the heathen or the restitution of Jerusalem to the Jews, two objects of my nightly supplication which left me very cold.
Prayer is not an old woman's idle amusement. Properly understood and applied, it is the most potent instrument of action. . . . . . . Prayer is the first and the last lesson in learning the noble and brave art of sacrificing self in the various walks of life culminating in the defence of one's nation's liberty and honour.
Scientific research is based on the idea that everything that takes place is determined by laws of nature, and therefore this holds for the actions of people. For this reason, a research scientist will hardly be inclined to believe that events could be influenced by a prayer, i. e. by a wish addressed to a supernatural Being.
Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
After three days men grow weary, of a wench, a guest, and weather rainy.
Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine, And fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink before I go A service to my bonnie lassie.
It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
I still remember the refrain of one of the most popular barrack ballads of the day which proclaimed most proudly that old soldiers never die; they just fade away. And, like the old soldier of that ballad, I now close my military career and just fade away, an old soldier who tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty. Goodbye.
What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of a good-by. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad good-by, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse.
It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends.
Farewells and separations never, I find, quite live up to the drama they promise to afford. Human beings (I find again) have a tendency to feel the wrong quantity of emotion, or indeed the wrong emotion, so that life is an endless procession of liquid being poured into and exchanged between badly designed containers, the wrong color, the wrong shape, the wrong size.
But the olde saying is, hast maketh waste, and bargains made in speede, are commonly repented at leisure.
In dealing with cunning persons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their speeches; and it is good to say little to them, and that which they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man may not look to sow and reap at once, but must prepare business, and so ripen it by degrees.
The most eminent negotiators have always been the politest and best-bred men in company; even what the women call the prettiest men. For God's sake, never lose view of these your two capital objects; bend everything to them, try everything by their rules, and calculate everything by their purposes.
Win/Win is a frame of mind and heart that constantly seeks mutual benefit in all human interactions. Win/Win means that agreements or solutions are mutually beneficial, mutually satisfying. With a Win/Win solution, all parties feel good about the decision and feel committed to the action plan.

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