A new blog

Color Book

I will be posting here until I decide what to do with this one.

Happy Holidays!!!:-)))

S.

Changes

This blog will go through some changes soon, so there won´t be any updates at least until mid-January. Meanwhile, you can follow my Facebook page - see link on the right.

Thank you all!

:-)

S.

I will be silent for a while....

It is not what I expected Santa to bring me this year. Only yesterday I almost bought an external hard drive, giving up at the last minute. Had I bought it, this would not have happened.

My pen drived just crashed. It is not the worst that could happen to anyone, but lost EVERYTHING that was in there - personal files, my writings, ebook collection, my image collection.... including the ones I used to post here daily. I spent years gathering all that and now it us gone It had been a while since I backed up some of it, so it is amazing how much data I lost. Only last week I deleted my entire collection of vintage postcards from my computer in order to free some memory space... Now it is all gone.

I will have to start all over again and it won´t be easy, I am not even sure I can. I will not abandon this blog, but I will probably be silent for a while.

Thank you all!

Wish me luck!

:-)

Sandra

Hard to plan

If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.

E.B. White

Memories

“And still it is not enough to have memories. One must be able to forget them when they are many, and one must have the great patience to wait until they come again. For it is not yet the memories themselves. Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves—not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

The best

“I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other.”

Jane Austen

Looking out

“In looking out upon the universe, we forget that the universe is looking at itself.”

Alan Watts

My favorite feeling in the world

“I go back to the reading room, where I sink down in the sofa and into the world of The Arabian Nights. Slowly, like a movie fadeout, the real world evaporates. I’m alone, inside the world of the story. My favorite feeling in the world.”

Haruki Murakami

It does

“Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.”

William James

Within

“What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us.”

Henry David Thoreau

When you sell a man a book

“When you sell a man a book you don’t sell just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night - there’s all heaven and earth in a book, a real book.”

Christopher Morley

Fool

Every fool finds a greater one to admire them.

Bioleau

Misunderstood

"Every deep thinker is more afraid of being understood than of being misunderstood."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Knowing your darkness

“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.”

C.G. Jung

Sheltered

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom: absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this or die like this without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”

Anaïs Nin

Dwell

“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”

Marcus Aurelius

Infinitely stranger

“Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable.”

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Memory

“Memory is a snare, pure and simple; it alters, it subtly rearranges the past to fit the present.”

Mario Vargas Llosa

I Have Lived With Shades

I

I have lived with shades so long,

And talked to them so oft,

Since forth from cot and croft

I went mankind among,

That sometimes they

In their dim style

Will pause awhile

To hear my say;

II

And take me by the hand,

And lead me through their rooms

In the To-be, where Dooms

Half-wove and shapeless stand:

And show from there

The dwindled dust

And rot and rust

Of things that were.

III

"Now turn," spake they to me

One day: "Look whence we came,

And signify his name

Who gazes thence at thee." -

--"Nor name nor race

Know I, or can,"

I said, "Of man

So commonplace.

IV

"He moves me not at all;

I note no ray or jot

Of rareness in his lot,

Or star exceptional.

Into the dim

Dead throngs around

He'll sink, nor sound

Be left of him."

V

"Yet," said they, "his frail speech,

Hath accents pitched like thine -

Thy mould and his define

A likeness each to each -

But go! Deep pain

Alas, would be

His name to thee,

And told in vain!"

"O memory, where is now my youth,

Who used to say that life was truth?"

"I saw him in a crumbled cot

Beneath a tottering tree;

That he as phantom lingers there

Is only known to me."

"O Memory, where is now my joy,

Who lived with me in sweet employ?"

"I saw him in gaunt gardens lone,

Where laughter used to be;

That he as phantom wanders there

Is known to none but me."

"O Memory, where is now my hope,

Who charged with deeds my skill and scope?"

"I saw her in a tomb of tomes,

Where dreams are wont to be;

That she as spectre haunteth there

Is only known to me."

"O Memory, where is now my faith,

One time a champion, now a wraith?"

"I saw her in a ravaged aisle,

Bowed down on bended knee;

That her poor ghost outflickers there

Is known to none but me."

"O Memory, where is now my love,

That rayed me as a god above?"

"I saw him by an ageing shape

Where beauty used to be;

That his fond phantom lingers there

Is only known to me."

Thomas Hardy

Who ever desired each other as we do?

Who ever desired each other as we do? Let us look

for the ancient ashes of hearts that burned,

and let our kisses touch there, one by one,

till the flower, disembodied, rises again.

Let us love that Desire that consumed its own fruit

and went down, aspect and power, into the earth:

We are its continuing light,

its indestructible, fragile seed

Pablo Neruda