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Ambition begets troubles.

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Ambition

In man, ambition is the common'st thing;
Each one by nature loves to be a king.

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Father Of My Ambition

I was once father
Of my ambition(s)
They seem to have outgrown
Thanks to my own passion

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I have seen almost all the possible Troubles in my life

I have seen almost all the possible Troubles in my life,
The last one that I have to face is the Death.

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Thomas Jefferson

Dependence begets subservience and venality, suffocates the germ of virtue, and prepares fit tools for the designs of ambition.

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Life's Troubles

All of life's troubles
Are just fleeting moments
When you come to realize
God awaits for us in heaven
To give us an eternity of joy

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My Troubles

I WROTE down my troubles every day;
And after a few short years,
When I turned to the heart-aches passed away,
I read them with smiles, not tears.

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Ambition over adversity

Take one's adversity
Learn from their misfortune
Learn from their pain
Believe in something
Believe in yourself
Turn adversity into ambition
Now blossom into wealth

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Ianthe’s Troubles

YOUR pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down and up again as blithe as ever;
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples in a sunny river.

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Emily Dickinson

Ambition cannot find him

68

Ambition cannot find him.
Affection doesn't know
How many leagues of nowhere
Lie between them now.

Yesterday, undistinguished!
Eminent Today
For our mutual hone, Immortality!

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Alcohol Washes Troubles Away?

clichés tell me
'Money makes the world
go round'

and
'Love makes the world
go round'

but
Alcoholics definitely
deny

the
validity
of such

sober lines.

Alcohol washes
troubles away
at least if does

just for a day


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Destruction by ambition.

If your senses are hungry,
You seek food, sex and comfort.
If your ego is hungry,
You seek name and position.
The drive of ambition,
Rather than the drive of senses
Put one to destruction
As did to Brutus and Mac Beth.
24.12.2003

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Compounding The Troubles

Compounding the troubles
You arrived at my door
While I am piloting the mirage crashes.

You did not want to have
details of my resignation from
countering terrorism and
beg sorry for the lapses.

I am at my presence to guide
the panel and need your cooperation
that you declined to offer yourself.

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The Right Ambition

I have ambition more to the point,
Must those perfect basics disappoint?
I can function from within, like me
And all the rest of humanity.
These games and goals are scored
In open daylight, the rest I am bored.
Must ambition stay flowing with abundance?
Or do we finish with finality and acceptance?
The game won over fierce battles
Is the most serious of cudgels.

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Bitten By Drive And Ambition

When one's cup fills to the brim...
With a spilling over that begins.
Would it be advantageous,
To secure another cup?

Or should a sacrifice,
That has been satisfied...
Be enough,
For one bitten by drive...
And ambition.

Or...
Does a success achieved,
Begin to breed the feeding...
Of an unstoppable greed.

Only one familiar with the taste of poverty,
Can truthfully say...
What sustains a need,
To maintain a craving done selfishly!

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His Ambition

To be a Civil Servant
was his aim,
Master of The Royal Mint
a little bit of fame!
After all he was a graduate
on a list you'll see his name.
His ambition was to be
a Civil Servant.

But a sudden gust of romance
came along, wooed him with
an Oklahoma love song.
The thought of previous
plans and schemes
melted into idle dreams.
He no longer wished to be
a Civil Servant.

His imagination strayed to
the Church and to the Altar.
His ambition now...to wed
the rich man's daughter.

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Christmas Troubles Are Far Away

Yes, my troubles are miles away,

In fact there light years to this day.

I’m on another planet,

one that is not in your domain,

For you are totally not in my game,

but hey, baby I love you just the same.

Why, it’s Christmas now,

so let’s not have a cow.

Let’s count are blessings if there are any to count,

don’t worry about me babe,

I put you on the list without any doubt.

Live by Suzae Chevalier at Starbucks Upper East Side NYC 12: 35pm
Copyright Chevalier Originals, Inc.12/10/2010

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A Green Pride Has No Ambition Now

Walk with me, till moon rises
on the griefs of the dark,
and the tongue tastes the pain of centuries.

On the erected dome
when the golden leaves start a flame
which throws up an image of a prophet.

My nightingale was giving a call
of a very sad tune, on the death of peacocks -
but for the poisoned feed, they were dancing.

A green pride has no ambition now,
roses were wilting.
Fever was rising in the roots.

Do not give it to me, my award.
Could I have shut up like a fame
when my house was being ransacked?

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Murdering Ambition

it is an overgrowth
protruding on my forehead like a horn of a bull
its uglification of my being has become overt
and destructive
and so i have decided to cut it with a sharp saw
not to hurt myself
since its sharpness is inside the temple.
there is this content of the air
the one that drifts but for a time refreshes
the one that is with us when
the sun gets so hot
when the temperature rises
when the heat wave kills.
ambition, i am letting it go
since i still have many other good things to do
for you, my people.

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Your Troubles?

Your troubles?
You fed upon them to addict.
Aches and pains you carry to bear?
Your stubbornness ensured,
They would remain right there.

You listened but did not take,
Advice and suggestions...
From others you believed irritated.
And now you've discovered,
Those 'pity pits' you face...
Will not go away.
To be with you as if to stay.

Your troubles?
You fed upon them to addict.
Aches and pains you carry to bear?
Your stubbornness ensured,
They would remain right there.
Leaving those who once cared...
Not to!

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Emily Dickinson

What shall I do when the Summer troubles

956

What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What, when the Rose is ripe—
What when the Eggs fly off in Music
From the Maple Keep?

What shall I do when the Skies a'chirrup
Drop a Tune on me—
When the Bee hangs all Noon in the Buttercup
What will become of me?

Oh, when the Squirrel fills His Pockets
And the Berries stare
How can I bear their jocund Faces
Thou from Here, so far?

'Twouldn't afflict a Robin—
All His Goods have Wings—
I—do not fly, so wherefore
My Perennial Things?

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