Of Hate and Indifference

Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike. - Albus Dumbledore

Abraham Lincoln’s letter to the teacher of his son

He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero: that far every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader…

Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend. It will take time, I know a long time, but teach, if you can, that a dollar earned is of more value then five of found.

Teach him, to learn to lose…And also to enjoy winning. Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach in the secret of quiet laughter.

Teach him, if you can the wonder of books…But also given quiet time wonder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and flowers on the green hillside.

In a school teach him, it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat…

Teach him to have faith in his own idea, even if anyone else tell him they are wrong…

Teach him to be gentle with gentle people and tough with tough.

Teach him to listen to all men…But teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good one that comes through.

Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tear.

Teach them to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidder but never to put a prize tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes the fine steel.
 
Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself because then he will always have some sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order, but see what can you do… He is such a fine little fellow, my son! Dad”

Connecting with people..

"ના ધારા સુધી, ના ગગન સુધી, નહિ ઉન્નતી, ના પતન સુધી,

ફક્ત આપને તો જવું હતું, બસ એક-મેક ના મન સુધી"

- ગણી દહીવાલ

--
Cheers!
Siddharth 'PV'
http://siddharthpv.blogspot.com/

Stopping by the woods

Whose woods these are I think I know,

His house is in the village though.

He will not see me stopping here,

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer,

To stop without a farmhouse near,

Between the woods and frozen lake,

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake,

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep,

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

- Robert Frost 

The Voice

“A heart needs only its own voice to do what is right.”

-Vanna Bonta

Impossible is nothing

“It's kind of fun to do the impossible.”

Really !

I'm not crazy about reality, but it's still the only place to get a decent meal.

GROUCHO MARX