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furthest Three Passions I have - Subscribe
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a waywa
rd course over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair. runescape gold
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy-ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of my life for a few hours for this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness-that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what-at last-I have found
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine...A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.
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Mood: belittled

furthest Beautiful Smile and Love Aug 7th, 2009 9:03:35 pm - Subscribe
Mother Teresa The poor are very wonderful people.
One evening we runescape gold went out and we

picked up four people from the street. And one of them was

in a most terrible condition---and I told the sisters: You take

care of the other three. I take care of this one who looked

worse. So I did for her all that my love can do. I put her in

bed and there was such a beautiful smile on her face. She

took hold of my hand as she said just the words “Thank

you.” And she died.
I could not help but examine my conscience before her,

and I asked what would I say if I were in her place. And my

answer was very simple. I would have tried to draw a little

attention to myself. I would have said I am hungry, that I

am dying. I am cold. I am in pain or something, but she

gave me much more—she gave me her graceful love. And

she died with a smile on her face. As did that man whom we

picked up from the drain, half eaten with worms, and we

brought him to the home. “I have lived like an animal in the

street, but I am going to die like an angel, loved and cared

for.” And it was so wonderful to see the greatness of that

man who could speak like that, who could die like that

without blaming anybody, without cursing anybody,

without comparing anything. Like an angel—this is the

greatness of our people. And that is why we believe what

Jesus had said: I was hungry—I was naked—I was homeless

—I was unwanted, unloved, uncared for –and you did it to

me.
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Mood: unhealthy

furthest my love Aug 8th, 2009 6:30:42 pm - Subscribe
an empty street runescape money
an empty house
a hole inside my heart
i'm all alone and the rooms are getting smaller
i wonder how, i wonder why
i wonder where they are
the days we had, the songs we sang together oh

yeah~~~
and oh my love
i'm holding on forever
reaching for a love that seems so far
so i say a little prayer
and hope my dreams will take me there
where the skies are blue
to see you once again, my love
over seas from coast to coast
to find the place i love the most
where the fields are green
to see you once again, my love
i try to read
i go to work
i am laughing with my friends
but i can't stop to keep myself from thinking oh

no~~~
to see you once again
to hold you in my arms
to promise you my love
to tell you from the heart
you're all i am thinking of
i am reaching for a love that seems so far
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Mood: heartbroken

furthest YOUTH Aug 9th, 2009 7:20:45 pm - Subscribe
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a

matter of rosy runescape accounts cheeks, red lips

and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the

imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the

deep springs of life.
Youth means a tempera-mental predominance of courage

over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of

ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20.

 Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We

grow old by deserting our ideals.
Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles

the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns

the spring back to dust. Whether 60 or 16, there is in every

human being’s heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing childlike

appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In

the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless

station: so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope,

cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so

long are you young.
When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with

snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are

grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to

catch waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young

at 80.
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Mood: famished

furthest Rush Aug 10th, 2009 6:28:13 pm - Subscribe
Swallows may have gone,but there is a time of return; willow trees

may have died runescape gold back, but there is a time of

regreening; peach blossoms may have fallen, but they will bloom

again. Now, you the wise, tell me, why should our days leave us,

never to return? - If they had been stolen by someone, who

could it be? Where could he hide them? If they had made the

escape themselves, then where could they staI don't know how

many days I have been given to spend, but I do feel my hands

are getting empty. Taking stock silently, I find that more than

eight thousand days have already slid away from me. Like a drop

of water from the point of a needle disappearing into the ocean,

my days are dripping into the stream of time, soundless, traceless.

Already sweat is starting on my forehead, and tears wellinThose

that have gone have gone for good, those to come keep

coming; yet in between, how swift is the shift, in such a rush?

When I get up in the morning, the slanting sun marks its presence

in my small room in two or three oblongs. The sun has feet, look,

he is treading on, lightly and furtively; and I am caught, blankly, in

his revolution. Thus--the day flows away through the sink when I

wash my hands, wears off in the bowl when I eat my meal, and

passes away before my day-dreaming gaze as reflect in silence. I

can feel his haste now, so I reach out my hands to hold him back,

but he keeps flowing past my withholding hands. In the evening,

as I lie in bed, he strides over my body, glides past my feet, in his

agile way. The moment I open my eyes and meet the sun again,

one whole day has gone. I bury my face in my hands and heave

a sigh. But the new day begins to flash past in the sigh.g up in my

eyes.What can I do, in this bustling world, with my days flying in

their escape? Nothing but to hesitate, to rush. What have I been

doing in that eight-thousand-day rush, apart from hesitating?

Those bygone days have been dispersed as smoke by a light

wind, or evaporated as mist by the morning sun. What traces

have I left behind me? Have I ever left behind any gossamer

traces at all? I have come to the world, stark naked; am I to go

back, in a blink, in the same stark nakedness? It is not fair though:

why should I have made such a trip for nothing!

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Mood: angsty