Category: English

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

~ Robert Frost

1) I will be kind in thought word and action

2) I will take nothing personally and I will flow with everything

3) I will confirm perceptions before jumping to conclusions

4) I will give my best effort and live without regret

5) I will learn from everything and awaken my senses to every little thing

~ Don Miguel Ruiz and Rob McBride

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

~ William Shakespeare

Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear’t that th’ opposed may beware of thee.

Give every man thine 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.
…
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 own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

~ William Shakespeare

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 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. To he who actually strives to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

~ Theodore Roosevelt

Every day is one less day
every night another night
deep inside we wonder what it’s all
about if everything is so brief and light

every beach is another beach
until it is overtaken by the sea
and the four seasons make no
noise in corners of reality

every god is a god of nothing
who has been left without eternity
and in the meantime the birds fight
with the air as they learn to fly

every death is the death of another
and we forget them so as not to cry
but also there are those who / in innocence/
in bare feet cross on over to the other side

every day is one less day
every night another night
but as long as there are roses in sight
life is a celebration in which to delight.

~ Mario Benedetti

Everything comes and everything goes but ours is to go,
to go making roads over the ocean.

I never went after glory, nor to leave on the minds of men my song.
I love the simple things, weightless and light, like soap bubbles.

I like to see them reflect the sun and the grain, float beneath the great blue sky, suddenly shake and then break.

I never went after glory…

Walking are your footsteps, the road and nothing more.
Walking there is no road
We make our road as we go.

As we go, we make our road and as we look back,
See the road over which we will never again go.
Walking there is no road, only the wake we leave as we go…

For a very long time and in the very same place the forests have been dressed in thorns.
A poet was heard shouting:
“Walking there is no road, we make our road as we go…”
Blow by blow, verse by verse.

The poet died a long way from home.
The dust of a neighboring nation covers his soul.
When he left, they saw him cry:
“Walking there is no road, we make our road as we go…”
Blow by blow, verse by verse.

When the songbird can no longer sing,
When the poet is a pilgrim,
When not even praying helps:
Walking there is no road, we make our road as we go…
Blow by blow, verse by verse.
Blow by blow, verse by verse.
Blow by blow, verse by verse.

~ Joan Manuel Serrat with José Antonio Machado

Make it a great day, unless of course, you have other plans…

This morning I awoke excited about all of the things I have to do today before the alarm went off. I am important and my job is to choose what kind of day I will have.

I can complain because it is raining… or I can give thanks because the plants are being watered.

I can feel sad because I don’t have more money… or I can be happy because my financial situation drives me to plan my purchases more intelligently.

I can complain about my health… or rejoice that I am alive.

I can feel sorry for what my parents didn’t give me when I was growing up… or I can be thankful to them for allowing me to be born.

I can cry because the roses have thorns… or I can celebrate that the thorns have roses.

I can feel sorry for myself because I don’t have many friends… or I can get excited and embark on an adventure to discover new relationships.

I can complain because I have to go to work… or I can shout with joy because I have a job.

I can complain because I have to go to school… or I can open my mind energetically and fill it with new, rich knowledge.

I can mutter bitterly because I have housework to do… or I can feel honored because I have a roof for my mind and my body.

The day presents itself before me, waiting for me to give it form, and here I am; I am the sculptor and on me it depends what kind of day I will have today.

Make it a great day unless, of course, you have other plans.

~ Attributed to Mario Benedetti