March 2012
4 posts
The Dash By Linda Ellis
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning…to the end.
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He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth
And now only those who love...
Man in the Arena - Theodore Roosevelt
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually...
An invisible wink
Something strange happened on my journey home today. Standing as there wasn’t a seat I took a cursory glance around the carriage. The usual rabble was also on the journey home. In front of me sat 2 girls one listening to her music and the other taking out a notebook. I took my phone and started trawling through my emails. After I’d dealt with a couple I looked up again and looked over...
