Latest quotes | Random quotes | Vote! | Latest comments | Add quote

George Sand

Life resembles a novel more often than novels resemble life.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Related quotes

More Humble Than I Am

Spiritualists claim we chose our own lives;
whenever you tell me to shut up, I wonder
why I chose a life in which I would never be
heard, not allowed to express anger at all

Making me balloon in my frustration- the only
reasonable explanation I can find is so that it
would force me to write; when I try to explain
my ideas you turn away in disgust, and

It is your right – teaching me it is my duty to
turn away from you too - otherwise I would
have been so content in a Candide-world
living in the best universe conceivable

I would not have had any other desire than
to enjoy the touch of my beloved sun, feel
the soft, misty caress of rain on my face,
while venturing out like Jane Eyre - but

My having chosen to live by doing translation
which smothers the soul while teaching art
of writing well, and a partner who teaches
self-effacement, shows that although

I am a bad person (in their eyes) , at least I
have high ideals - to grow more humble
than I am & gifts like watching Belle’s
Enchanted Tales and Despicable Me

Because if I had company, I would not
have retreated – though I might have,
in any case, no one can tell – and
what I gain is so valuable!


Candide – French novel by Voltaire
Belle Disney Channel – Beauty and the Beast
Despicable Me – Animation 2010

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Cello More Important Than Life

Your righteous indignation at my making two mistakes
that merely disturbed your complacency authorises you
to swear at me and sets you free from any need to apologise,
in this house I must reiterate how sorry I am and write letters
explaining why I messed up and became guilty of high treason
and should be shot for multiple shortcomings, the situation is
so bizarre it makes me laugh - Mein Herr Marquis, ein Mann
wie Sie … drum verzeihen Sie wenn ich lache - ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha [Die Fledermaus]

Your injured dignity forces you to ignore me pointedly - fine,
after laughing to my heart's content, the screensaver that gives
meaning to everyday routine, Timothy Dalton as 007 - The
Living Daylights - keeps my mind occupied; while you steam
and froth at the mouth, presenting like Le Malade Imaginaire
of Molière, waiting to execute me with the guillotine of your
mouth - I happily watch 007 rise to the occasion as he con-
fronts the KJB - while you prepare the devastating speech
that is meant to change me into Quasimodo himself

I am walking the grey steets of Russia in 1987, a cello is clearly
more important than a life, once again the situation is clear -
yes, your discomfiture is more important than my work or life,
James Bond puts it all in perspective, having just used a laser
light on an official car, yes, this is life, as long as the
imagination can take us away, reality is just the trampoline
providing lift-off into the sky, sorry Mein Herr Marquis, a
tragedy in the land of ice has taken me away, the cello has
taken a bullet and they just went through the border post
- safe in Austria -

While the KJB is getting ready to launch new attacks on everyone

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Pretense Than Passion

When we each came to be sixteen,
Planting expectations with claims to fulfill hopes...
On hills with slopes overlooking streams.
Nothing in the World appeared mean back then.
Or did folks with bad thoughts
With worse on their minds,
Complain or whine,
Backstab then wine and dine their neighbors
Family and friends.
Again, back then.

By our mid-teens the life that held dreams,
We lived to create
Those scenes to forever lay within them insatiated!
Believing lives with no fear of apologizing would ever end.
But they did. And they do...
To leave us more apologetic for our deeds,
Or the lack to inspire them.
To discover us now pleading for signs of sanity.
Or something that resembles it.

Some of us were nurtured with thoughts
We would always be beloved, belonged
And provided lives gift boxed!
There is no joy when the connections to reality
Begin to snap in place.
We are no longer where we were...
Or in times when then we thought,
We knew what and who!

When we became sixteen...
Too much rebuttal spewed
Unrelenting to forgive,
Forget and mend!
Brewing still we are
For decisions that are made on a whim...
None of us can say
Changes brought our choices to satisfied the men,
And the women to find contentment in these times,
We are living now!

And no heart becomes spared,
For cares that surface on matured emotions.
They show quicker when aging begins to speed.
At sixteen no one is looking to sing a 'blues' duet...
Or think of aging as a death sentence.

Yet,
It is!

As we try to cling onto a bittersweet existence,
With the persistence of a spoiled child.
We eventually leave sixteen to welcome and adopt,
Comfortable habits we can not dropp but defend.
Venturing to speak of new paths to take.
But bluffing as if time had not revealed...
We are still more pretense than passion.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Far More Pretty Than The Flowers Hanging On The Branches

Far more pretty than the flowers hanging on the branches,
more glamorous than the sun in the blue sky,
much closer than the birds in their flight
you come into my life by your own will,

you bring comfort to the daily longing
and constantly return from work.
Far more pretty than the flowers hanging on the branches,
more glamorous than the sun in the blue sky,

the depth of our love sometimes scares me;
for getting hurt these feelings are sometimes renowned
but our love makes my humanity lustrous
and constantly you are
far more pretty than the flowers hanging on the branches,
more glamorous than the sun in the blue sky.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Intense Than Antony and Cleopatra

Big city confusion,
Dazzling neon lights flash
Downtown intersection
Where exited people talk
And laugh at newspaper corners,
Birds perch atop old building roofs
And gaze at me with prayerful eyes
Mystically returning from a saint’s life
In a reincarnation mysterious journey.

I’m all alone in a cold night
Dying for heartbeats not my own
And friendly conversation,
Clutching a letter written in faded ink
Promising a hotel rendezvous
In a neutral city
Where we would kiss beside
Nude window blinds
And experience frenzied passion
More intense than Antony and Cleopatra.

My training is patient and silent meditation
While I seek revelation and self-realization,
And search for my identical twin soul
Waiting in a room with a secret magical number.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

A Saying We Hear Often

A saying we hear often like father like son
It is only human when all is said and done
That the boy models himself on the behaviour of dad
More often than not for the good than the bad.

Though few so few ever grow into a sage
Good values by people learned at a young age
In behaviour the son the dad does imitate
One might say from life we get what we create.

The son mostly models himself on the father what more proof does one need
That by good or bad example one only can lead
Though on some occasions this has been proved wrong
The bond between father and son mostly strong.

I'm not into human psychology so don't ask me why
Like father like son in most cases apply
Without a good father the child in life may not succeed
Good role models in their life every young person need.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

None More Selfish Than I

Some humans are such selfish creatures and none more selfish than I
The World revolves around me and praise of self I do enjoy
Some call it self survival or call it what you may
And meanwhile people dying of hunger every day.

I've never known what it feels like to be hungry or known of hunger pain
Yet of my poor existence I often do complain
So many poor and oppressed people would envy one like me
It surely can be a relative thing when one talks of poverty.

I meet so many selfish people who for themselves only care
Of the sufferings of others they don't even seem to care
As well as self centred they are ignorant and without thinking they say
That poverty is self inflicted in the World of today.

I may be a selfish bugger but in that I'm not alone
And I am one not without sin so I can't cast the stone
I feel that the World revolves around me how selfish can one be
And only the best of people are blessed with the gift of empathy.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Questions Than Answers

There are wars around us daily and the world sleeps,
But read your Bible always to know the facts about all these prophesies!
For there are more questions than answers on this earth,
And like a red mark on the foreheads of mankind.

Of hope in life,
Of power in the name of war,
Of love to the people we care for,
Of faith on the journey on this earth,
And of a sound mind in the land of roses;
But there are more questions than answers on this earth.

Beside the service of two,
Elias came as a surprise to us! !
And like the prophecy that is known to you;
But there are more questions than answers on this earth.

Captured by various lusts,
But we brought nothing to the world and we will take away nothing out of it!
And like our tears after the bombs,
But there are more questions on this earth than answers.

Bombs everywhere! !
And like the corpses after the wars;
But in youthful lusts with green-uniforms like the flesh and blood as seen in Ivory Coast and in Libya!
And the world sleeps because of its many problems.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Best Day Of My Life

You always said living with me was impossible
Try it I said just like the wind I'm changeable
We ain't got money but we sure got laughs
lots of loving too
So I confess on my behalf
you're giving me honestly
the best days of my life
Your whispering girls said don't be a fool
don't give into him
He's an animal treat you like dirt
then he'll turn you in
You two are not compatible
It'll never never last
They said I wasn't even suitable
But you're giving me honestly
the best days of my life
Sometimes I wonder
why does she bother with me at all
So staid in my ways
Let's face it my dear, I'm insufferable
The crazy nights spilling into days
with all my noisy friends
But they all love you as much as I
Giving me constantly
the best days of my life
And a day without you at this point my dear
seems unthinkable
A night without you more often
than not is unbearable
But if it all can't work out
one can never never tell
In my heart there is no doubt
you gave to me unselfishly
the best days of my life
But if it all can't work out one can never never tell

song performed by Rod StewartReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Best Days Of My Life

(rod stewart / jim cregan)
You always said living with me was impossible
Try it I said just like the wind Im changeable
We aint got money but we sure got laughs
Lots of loving too
So I confess on my behalf
Youre giving me honestly
The best days of my life
Your whispering girls said dont be a fool
Dont give into him
Hes an animal treat you like dirt
Then hell turn you in
You two are not compatible
Itll never never last
They said I wasnt even suitable
But youre giving me honestly
The best days of my life
Sometimes I wonder
Why does she bother with me at all
So staid in my ways
Lets face it my dear, Im insufferable
The crazy nights spilling into days
With all my noisy friends
But they all love you as much as i
Giving me constantly
The best days of my life
And a day without you at this point my dear
Seems unthinkable
A night without you more often
Than not is unbearable
But if it all cant work out
One can never never tell
In my heart there is no doubt
You gave to me unselfishly
The best days of my life
But if it all cant work out one can never never tell

song performed by Rod StewartReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Faith More Precious Than Gold

Although now, for a while,
Sore distressed by grievous trial,
And your love for your Lord may grow cold,
You are shielded by Him,
To His hope you’re born again,
And your faith is more precious than gold.

How intense is the fire
Of your grief and deep desire
And the pain of the sob of your soul;
Of God’s plan you’re afraid,
And by Him you feel betrayed,
But your faith is more precious than gold.

Though He slay, you can trust
Him who made you out of dust;
He is still the same God as of old.
Though you can’t see Him now,
Still you love Him anyhow
With your faith that’s more precious than gold.

God is now glorified
When in Him you still abide
And His fruit of endurance show bold.
You’re the work of His hand,
And on Him you must depend,
So your faith is more precious than gold.

You can greatly rejoice
In His name and in His choice
More like Jesus your being to mold.
So then run to the Lord,
To His side and to His Word;
Put to practice this faith more than gold.

When you flee thus in prayer
And experience His care,
Then the proof of your faith will be told.
Though some pain might remain,
You’ll thank God for all the rain,
For you’ll know your faith’s worth more than gold.

And this faith has an end
That you’ll better comprehend:
The salvation and life of your soul,
An inheritance sweet,
Bowing at your Savior’s feet,
Praising Him for this gift more than gold.

(Based on 1 Peter 1: 3-9)

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Arrogant Than Necessary

Remember a few years ago,
When folks 'with' good credit...
Use to brag about the number of cards,
They had.

'I have all the major ones!
And you? '

None!

'None? Well...
I pride myself on maintaining good credit! '

I'm a true American.
Destined to have bad credit...
I guess!
And 'today' my bad credit prevented me,
From getting a credit card.

I did have one many years ago.
I never used it and was still stuck with a bill.
Charging me fees for 'non-use'.
Oh yes!

Now I've heard...
Not only have some folks experienced,
Tripled interests rates.
They are charged an additional fee...
IF less than two items are purchased in a single month.
AND...'if' the bank is not paid for those purchases,
Within thirty days...
That's another fee!

Years ago I frequented a store called Nellie's
On Canton Street in Hartford.
I was a kid.
Grown...
But a child nonetheless.
It was rare for me to have money.
But I ended up in Nellie's talking with her.
And she'd give me a lollipop.
I was a child using my charm to the max.

One day I licked on a lollipop...
And Ms Nellie said, 'Two for Five cents.'

'I ain't got no five cents, Ms Nellie! '

~That's your last lollipop! ~

Where are they?
What have we done to those teachers?

Who stuck by a decision to feed addicting greed to folks?
Especially to the ones who ain't got no cash.
Or none laying around in a bank.
If 'they' did 'they' would not be closing them!

I demanded my account closed years ago.
And took all of my twenty dollars out!
The manager had stated...
I was 'acting' more arrogant than necessary.
'Excuse me?
Close my account! Now.
And that will be in 'twenty' one dollar bills...
Thank you! '

They are using 'my' money?
And pushing 'me' around like that?
I...don't think so!

I'm glad I did that earlier.
The thought of standing in a line,
'Waiting' to see if my life's savings are safe...
I don't have the patience anymore to do!

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

They're More Equal Than Others

Democracies, Dictatorships and Communism,
Are contradictions they'd have us all think,
Yet as all of them head for cataclysm,
It's the poor who are left to sink.

As our leaders tear our economies apart,
It's time to stand up and be counted,
These idiots are determined to tear out our heart,
Mass protests against you will be mounted.

We're in this together they'd have you believe,
But it's we who must follow their rules,
While they live in splendour we're left to grieve,
Working people are treated like fools.

We are taxed us from birth till the day we die,
To ensure we stay under the thumb,
While they're on the take we're left to cry,
They look upon commoners as scum.

Those who preside at the top of the tree,
Politicians and fat cat millionaires,
The plight of the poor they refuse to see,
If truth be told not one of them cares.

These hierarchies dictate how we all should live,
We must struggle just to stay alive,
While their lives are based on take not give,
They leave us barely enough to survive.

We're being squeezed to death by these parasites,
Who want nothing but fortune and fame,
It is us they condemn they're abusing our rights,
While their excuses are always the same.

They bring all of our countries to their knees,
Through sheer incompetence and greed,
Then walk away rich denying the sleaze,
Their lavish lifestyles they go on to feed.

While they live their lives in prosperity,
The workers end up unemployed,
We must suffer a life of austerity,
While their lives are being enjoyed.

The fat cats claim it is never their fault,
Whenever the stock markets crash,
To fix it they enter the taxpayers vault,
Then they walk away with our stash.

We're then left to pick up the pieces,
As taxes and prices all rise,
It's the workers the speculator fleeces,
By so called experts, another myth dies.

They lie so much they forget the truth,
Then get caught in their venomous webs,
Their indignant attitude is then so uncouth,
When they call us nothing but '' plebs ''

The truth is none of them would be rich,
Without us they'd be walking the streets,
For a life of austerity they don't have the itch,
They're the epitomy of low life cheats.

Fact is for us they do not give a damn,
The truth a liar always smothers,
We are being conned by their illegitimate scam,
They believe,

‘' They're More Equal Than Others ‘'

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
Patrick White

Living On A Planet That Kills More People Than It Heals

Living on a planet that kills more people than it heals.
And the most dangerous of predators, our own ideals
turning on us like ingrown hairs, solar flares the wind
blew in our faces without any of the veils or auroral graces
that used to adorn our amazement at what our eyes
in creative collaboration with victimized ions, could do
with the last breath of an expiring sun god to make it
mystically beautiful and awe-inspiring. Just
to be a witness to it was enough to keep your mouth
shut for the next ten thousand years, the silence
before the sublimity of being in the presence
as convincing to the farmer as it was to the astronomer.

As civilization progresses into an improved savagery
and people grow more bovine in their living rooms
as the one-eyed liar at the nadir of the third eye
entrances them into believing they're still
grazing in the starfields of genetically modified astroturf
they were raised on, slowly, from a moon cow's point of view
it's beginning to dawn on people that civilization
is nothing but the history of war since Sargon of Agade
first turned the plunder of cattle and women
into the military imperialism of the few against the many
by staying like a parasitic cosmic egg laid
on the pineal gland of a host caterpillar so civilization,
mimetic word, a cattle prod, an axe, and an abattoir,
is coming to be seen for the death trap that it is.
Muddy Waters, there's anotha mule kickin in yo stall.

I grew up in an impoverished neighbourhood
where the garbage cans were full of people
but I swear, and I've seen a lot I wish I hadn't,
I've never seen so much rot, corruption, and ignorance,
lacking even elementary street smarts, as I do
in the portulent politicians and their fanatically kempt hags
that make you feel so sorry for their hairdressers,
and the tailors that have to fit them like a hidden agenda
of hate and greed, oozing through the seams
of their shapeshifting, deformed-fitting suits.

Makes you want to stick the old peace sign of the sixties
down your throat and throw up. Or pack up
a small tent, like a refugee or an emigrant
and get in line with the rest of the waterlilies
who've finally given up on trying to turn
the festering swamp into something redeemably beautiful
and would rather be homelessly lost among the stars,
floating down the Milky Way with wild black swans,
than sit like the eggcup of a crown on the skull
of a false prophecy missing more than one link in its evolution.
And if you think not to be appalled by the stink of the world
is a kind of experienced wisdom, a seasoned outlook,
then I might suggest that you've aged like offal
complicit in the contagion of worms in the grass
where the children play on the swings. And your last best hope
is that your eyes have retained some of the original innocence
of the fool that you used to be,
before the Medusa turned them to stone
and the colour flaked off like the irises of violated covenants.

Radical in the sixties, I was into self-creative destruction,
tallowing sand candles out of napalm and beeswax
that went off like fifty calibre lipstick shells in your face.
I occupied. I dropped out. I blew my own mind
more than once just to make sure the bridge was burning
by the time I got to the other side of my own mindstream
and no one was following me like another blistering ideal
that got thrown like acid in the maculate face of the full moon.
It was easier to believe in everything back then
than to make peace with myself even now,
though I know it's just one illusion dead set against another
and I'm sitting naked in the Himalayas alone at night
trying to hatch a new cosmic egg for myself
or at least a new cosmology for this glass third eye
I've ground like a lens or the mirror of a reflecting telescope
with gritty carborundum down to within an angstrom of perfection
just to be on the same wavelength as quicksilver and diamonds
when it comes to seeing things that don't easily disappear.
Now I can see the stars dancing clearly from the inside out.

I'm looking for an abandoned observatory on the top
of the world mountain standing on the shaky cornerstone
of a snapping turtle, and I'm not being driven out this time,
exiled among exiles, like some scapegoat beaten
like an objective correlative for what is most ugly in humans
that don't sacrifice themselves for their own sins.
I've been leaving of my own accord for the last thirty light years
of this wilderness experience for the wind knows where.
And I still care. And I still help the waywards of life
that blow across my path like losing lottery tickets
and one winged butterflies trying to fly
like the unbound page of a book with half a wingspan.
I still fight with words and actions that have been blooded
like Damascene swords in the sacred forges of my infernality.
I've gone on exploring the elusive dark energy
of my expansiveness long after the universe went out
and sight stopped being a kind of love as lucid
as the imagination on a good seeing night for the sky bound.

But as my compassion has grown deeper, more holistic
and mystically specific simultaneously so has the sadness
of feeling so many suffer the indistinguishable pain
of simply being alive to endure the agony
of cauterizing their cosmic wounds with the very stars
they wished upon a heart break ago when the waterclock
broke like an ice-age dam and the baby mammoth
was washed away like starmud in a glacial flood
of Pleistocene tears. And life seems so randomly perilous
in the way it maims and kills the body and the mind,
it seems even the wise and the sublime die as surrealistically
as the sarcastic mentors of trash and trivia
trying to distract our attention away from our dilemma
with cheap thrills and punchlines about the meaning of nothing
so we can't feel the house burning down around us
until we're reminiscing in our urns,
as if we were still haunted by eyes in the dark
like some lingering significance to our demise.

Lachrymae rerum. Sometimes I think the mute rocks
don't just speak, they weep like stars
for the things they've seen like the headstones
of prophetic skulls in a cemetery of ancestral asteroids.
An abandoned observatory, yes, the jewel in the lotus,
and a large garden where I can grow my own constellations
like esoteric zodiacs of asters and sunflowers
and a lover I can bed down with like an equinox
when our celestial equators intersect our ecliptics
at the equinoctial colures of our cosmic G-spots
and we can implode like supernovas in each other's presence
just for the pure joy of immolating ourselves in bliss
to renew the tenderness of the fireflies who know
there are no limits to how far we can take this.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Common Than PMS?

POOP
is more common
than PMS

What's POOP?

just made poop up!
pissed off over people
seems very common?

snap out of it!


poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Physique is more powerful than the mind

the physique is more
powerful than the mind

it can help you track
down the impossible

if you can scale down
your mental attention
to its level

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
Andre Gide

The most decisive actions of our life -- I mean those that are most likely to decide the whole course of our future -- are, more often than not, unconsidered.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

So much more happy than before (Common Measure Octave)

So much more happy than before
with love you have made me,
as destiny had brought me loss
and you tranquillity,
forever you I do adore
and in your eyes I see
a lovely golden kind of gloss;
as true love has to be.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

More Numbed Than Stunned

What's done becomes more offensive,
When the intention does not receive...
The expected attention.

And those who should have been offended,
Have become more numbed than stunned...
By the show of ignorance some will never overcome.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
 

Search


Recent searches | Top searches