# Favorite inspirational thoughts/poems/etc.



## saucywench (Sep 24, 2009)

What are some of your favorite texts that you keep close to your heart, and/or--more specifically, even--your physical being? The following are two that I have had posted in my office space at work for several years:

*IF--Rudyard Kipling*
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!


(Of course, I change the last line in my head...) 


And the other:


Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.
Attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt


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## olwen (Sep 27, 2009)

A book that actually had a real impact on me is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. The first time I read it I couldn't get into it, but I picked it up again years later and I was blown away. The message is to not give up on finding your "personal treasure." To do that you must listen to your heart because it is part of the "soul of the world." In other words, follow your heart and don't give up on your dreams. Because of that book I was able to really figure out what I want to do with my life and so I'm now trying to get into art school. Ever since I made that decision that nagging feeling like I'm wasting my time has gone away. I keep that book in the bookcase by my bed. So thanks Paulo Coelho.


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## StarWitness (Sep 27, 2009)

Full in the realization that I am (a) unoriginal, and (b) a nerd: the Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert's _Dune_:



> I must not fear.
> Fear is the mind-killer.
> Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
> I will face my fear.
> ...



Especially helpful when one is dealing with an anxiety disorder.


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## olwen (Sep 27, 2009)

StarWitness said:


> Full in the realization that I am (a) unoriginal, and (b) a nerd: the Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert's _Dune_:
> 
> 
> 
> Especially helpful when one is dealing with an anxiety disorder.



That's a really good one! "Fear is the mind killer" is something I said to myself a lot in high school.


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## cinnamitch (Sep 27, 2009)

You must be the change you want to see in the world. Mahatma Gandhi

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow." Mary Anne Radmacher-Hershey


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## Tania (Sep 27, 2009)

Lately I've been trying to brainwash myself with Roman Stoicism's greatest hits, but it's not working. I very rarely find consolation in philosophy (apologies to Boethius for coopting his title). 

"How ridiculous and how strange is he who is surprised at anything which happens in life." (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12)


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## littlefairywren (Sep 27, 2009)

I have always loved this.....

You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? Shes not perfect - you arent either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So dont hurt her, dont change her, dont analyse and dont expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when shes not there.
 Bob Marley


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## thatgirl08 (Sep 28, 2009)

I really love that Marley quote.


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## SparklingBBW (Oct 4, 2009)

Rudyard Kipling - I grew up hearing my mother recite that poem often. She lived her life that way and encouraged me to do the same. It was read at her funeral, and whenever I read it, I hear her voice, so thank you for that Saucy! 

I also love the Marley quote; imma gonna write that one down in my quote notebook!

Here's one that has been spuring me on lately, maybe it will speak to someone here at dims who also needs to read these words: 

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. 
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. 
The slogan, 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." -- Calvin Coolidge


Gee
(somewhat eductated derelict pressing on)

.


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## StarWitness (Oct 11, 2009)

Saw this on contrariwise.org, which is a pretty neat blog:

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if its sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
theres never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

- e.e. cummings


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## MatthewB (Oct 11, 2009)

I've just discovered this poem, after only ever having known the first line, and I really like it; I think you will, too: 

ODE
_by Arthur O'Shaughnessy_

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers, 
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure 
Can trample a kingdom down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself in our mirth; 
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.

A breath of our inspiration
Is the life of each generation;
A wondrous thing of our dreaming
Unearthly, impossible seeming
The soldier, the king, and the peasant
Are working together in one,
Till our dream shall become their present,
And their work in the world be done.

They had no vision amazing
Of the goodly house they are raising;
They had no divine foreshowing
Of the land to which they are going:
But on one man's soul it hath broken,
A light that doth not depart;
And his look, or a word he hath spoken,
Wrought flame in another man's heart.

And therefore to-day is thrilling
With a past day's late fulfilling;
And the multitudes are enlisted
In the faith that their fathers resisted,
And, scorning the dream of to-morrow,
Are bringing to pass, as they may,
In the world, for its joy or its sorrow,
The dream that was scorned yesterday.

But we, with our dreaming and singing,
Ceaseless and sorrowless we!
The glory about us clinging
Of the glorious futures we see,
Our souls with high music ringing:
O men! it must ever be
That we dwell, in our dreaming and singing,
A little apart from ye.

For we are afar with the dawning
And the suns that are not yet high,
And out of the infinite morning
Intrepid you hear us cry
How, spite of your human scorning,
Once more God's future draws nigh,
And already goes forth the warning
That ye of the past must die.

Great hail! we cry to the comers
From the dazzling unknown shore;
Bring us hither your sun and your summers;
And renew our world as of yore;
You shall teach us your song's new numbers,
And things that we dreamed not before:
Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,
And a singer who sings no more.​


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