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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #musing
Within us all are sages, warriors and fools; we more often that not choose the fools ↗
#motivational-inspirational #motivational-quotes #philosophical-musings #philosophy #philosophy-of-life
Why does it seem easier for us to accept reality when it is within the confinement of the animal kingdom yet so hard for us to face it in our? ↗
#culture #humanity-and-society #philosophical-musings #philosophy-of-life #life
But no matter what I do, it will always get me, bother me, and you know what this is, what gets me, and will continue to get me throughout my existence? It’s that we as humans will never know the results of the other choice. What would have happened if I chose that instead of this? Naturally, the results or consequences would probably be different, perhaps very different. More importantly, would the other option have been the better choice? We will never know. I will never know. And this will always get me. ↗
Other people say: hold on, if he's carrying the entire universe in a sack, right, that means he's carrying himself and the sack inside the sack, because the universe contains everything. Including him. And the sack, of course. Which contains him and the sack already. As it were. To which the reply is: well? ↗
Old Man River! That seems far too austere a name For something made of mirth and rage. O, roiling red-blood river vein, If chief among your traits is age, You're a wily, convoluted sage. Is "old" the thing to call what rings The vernal heart of wester-lore; What brings us brassy-myth made kings (And preponderance of bug-type things) To challenge titans come before? Demiurge to a try at Avalon-once-more! And what august vitality In your wide aorta stream You must have had to oversee Alchemic change of timber beam To iron, brick and engine steam. Your umber whiskey waters lance The prideful sober sovereignty Of faulty-haloed Temperance And wilt her self-sure countenance; Yes, righteousness is vanity, But your sport's for imps, not elderly. If there's a name for migrant mass Of veteran frivolity That snakes through seas of prairie grass And groves of summer sassafras, A name that flows as roguishly As gypsy waters, fast and free, It's your real name, Mississippi. ↗