Birds sing after a storm. Why shouldn't we?
Rose KennedyRead
Life isn't a matter of milestones, but of moments.
Interpretation
Life is defined by the small, meaningful moments rather than just significant achievements.
This quote emphasizes that the true essence of life lies not in the grand milestones we often strive for, such as accomplishments or accolades, but rather in the everyday moments that bring us joy and fulfillment. It suggests that we should pay attention to and cherish these fleeting instances, as they contribute more significantly to our overall happiness and experience of life.
In practice
In a graduation speech to remind graduates to cherish their experiences.
Birds sing after a storm. Why shouldn't we?
Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?
I would much rather be known as the mother of a great son than the author of a great book or the painter of a great masterpiece.
Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?
I tell myself that God gave my children many gifts - spirit, beauty, intelligence, the capacity to make friends and to inspire respect. There was only one gift he held back - length of life.
It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.
There is a moment of conception and a moment of birth, but between them there is a long period of gestation.
The living can't quit living because the world has turned terrible and people they love and need are killed. They can't because they don't. The light that shines into darkness and never goes out calls them on into life. It calls them back again into the great room. It calls them into their bodies and into the world, into whatever the world will require. It calls them into work and pleasure, goodness and beauty, and the company of other loved ones.
Life is no straight and easy corridor along which we travel free and unhampered, but a maze of passages, through which we must seek our way, lost and confused, now and again checked in a blind alley. But always, if we have faith, a door will open for us, not perhaps one that we ourselves would ever have thought of, but one that will ultimately prove good for us
There are mountainous, arduous days, up which one takes an infinite time to climb, and downward-sloping days which one can descend at full tilt, singing as one goes.
That's not a thing any of us are granted. To go back. Wipe away what later doesn't suit us and make it the way we wish it. You just go on
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