#pines

Being snappy is a symptom of an argument we forgot to have some way back. ↗

— Alain de Botton

#arguments #snappiness #anger

Loving my son, building my son, touching my son, playing with my son, being with my son… these aren’t tasks that only super dads can perform. These are tasks that every dad should perform. Always. Without fail. ↗

— Dan Pearce

#arguing #break #child #children #dads

I can never relax. Not even when I have the time to. I am always jumping, always searching. I can't remember the last time something touched my heart. It is like some wall enters a room before me. I cry out of the misery that happens to someone who is unfeeling and uncaring. Out of anger and at the loss of being able to feel untouched happiness or astounding pain. So many times I have looked into the mirror and screamed,"WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT! ↗

— Geeta Masurekar- from 'Here is how it happened'

#feeling #happiness #loss #time #time-flies

(the whole world is at the throat of the world, everybody feels angry, short-changed, cheated, everybody is despondent, disillusioned.) I welcomed shots of peace, tattered shards of happiness. ↗

— Charles Bukowski

#happiness #inspirational #world #anger

Life is painful. It has thorns, like the stem of a rose. Culture and art are the roses that bloom on the stem. The flower is yourself, your humanity. Art is the liberation of the humanity inside yourself. ↗

— Daisaku Ikeda

#destiny #happiness #humanism #inspirational #karma

There are random moments - tossing a salad, coming up the driveway to the house, ironing the seams flat on a quilt square, standing at the kitchen window and looking out at the delphiniums, hearing a burst of laughter from one of my children's rooms - when I feel a wavelike rush of joy. This is my true religion: arbitrary moments of of nearly painful happiness for a life I feel privileged to lead. ↗

— Elizabeth Berg

#joy #religion #art

Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, ‘Look at my beautiful home! Isn’t it fine?’ And not, ‘Look at the home so-and-so has built.’ Thus we shouldn’t cry, ‘Look what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!’ But rather, ‘Look at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave? ↗

— Roman Payne

#carpenter #courage #esteem #genius #happiness

كنت كلما رأيتها في لباسها الفلسطيني المليء بالمزركشات والموتيفات الحية والنوار، اعترتني رغبة في أخذ الفرشاة بجنون وتغميسها في لباسها ورسم أشكال مجنونة من ألوان فستانها ↗

— واسيني الأعرج

#happiness #art

One should cultivate good habits of memory, for it is capable of making existence a Paradise or an Inferno. ↗

— Baltasar Gracián

#happiness #memory #art

To live long and achieve happiness, cultivate the art of radiating happiness. ↗

— Malcolm S. Forbes

#inspiration #art