IF by Rudyard Kipling
very good feeling afterwards.
IF by Rudyard Kipling
very good feeling afterwards.
Citizen X (25-Dec-13)
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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Citizen X (25-Dec-13)
And another that very much goes with this - Polonius’s advice to Laertes from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet:
And these few precepts in thy memory see thou character.
Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade.
Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
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Citizen X (25-Dec-13)
Oh dear, I made a silly mistake, you were in fact quoting the video above. My bad, dam I thought you were the modern-day South African version of William Ernest Henley
It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change. – Charles Darwin
Sorry to disappoint. However, these are words I try to bear in mind as I go about life... and occasionally manage to pull off too. They've been part of my personal mantra for many years now.
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It is certainly an exceptional poem and one of the most inspirational and meaningful compositions I have ever read.
It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change. – Charles Darwin
A Dream
by William Blake
Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:
'Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.'
Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, 'What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
'I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!'
peace is a state of mind
Disclaimer: everything written by me can be considered as fictional.
Citizen X (25-Dec-13)
King Henry V Shakespeare[Scene 111]
This scene gives us one of the most inspirational speeches a King can give his men before battle ever! It has always been a source of inspiration for me and continues to inspire me. This is especially so when the odds are against you.
Historical background
In 1415 England invades France with its young King Henry V. On 25 October 1415, a rag tagged, sick, weak and outnumbered English army prepares to fight a fresh and strong French army at Agincourt. History informs us that the English won despite the odds.
Shakespeare done a remarkable job fusing history into a play.
Background to Scene 111
King Henry leaves his camp to go and pray before battle. He knows his men are demotivated, suffering from various illnesses, and outnumbered. On his return he overhears his cousin Westmoreland saying that they are outnumbered and wishing they had more fresh men from England.
How would you as King respond to your cousin and all of your men listening to what your cousin has to say.
My summary: If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our Country loss, but if to live, the fewer men the greater share of honour! I would not want to die in that man’s company that fears to die with me! Rather give him money and let him go
This is how Shakespeare put it:
WESTMORELAND
O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!
KING HENRY V
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Last edited by Citizen X; 26-Dec-13 at 11:18 AM. Reason: typo
“Ubuntu is the essence of being humane" Desmond Tutu
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sabbaticus
tec0 (25-Dec-13)
Here's one that I'm quite fond of.
George Gray
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me --
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire --
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
~ Edgar Lee Masters
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