Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted.
Jules RenardRead
if I were to begin my life again, I should want it as it was. I would only open my eyes a little more.
Interpretation
The quote reflects a desire for acceptance of one's past while acknowledging the importance of increased awareness in life.
Jules Renard expresses a nostalgic longing for the life he has lived, suggesting that if given the chance to relive it, he would not change the experiences but would strive to be more conscious and aware during those times. This implies that while life can be filled with challenges and learning opportunities, a greater mindfulness could enhance the appreciation of each moment.
In practice
In a graduation speech highlighting the importance of learning from the past.
Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted.
If one were to build the house of happiness, the largest space would be the waiting room.
When I think of all the books still left for me to read, I am certain of further happiness.
It doesn't pay to say too much when you are mad enough to choke. For the word that stings the deepest is the word that is never spoke, Let the other fellow wrangle till the storm has blown away, then he'll do a heap of thinking about the things you didn't say.
Literature is an occupation in which you have to keep proving your talent to people who have none
I have no religion,β says Borneau, βbut I respect the religion of others. Religion is sacred.β Why this privilege, this immunity?... A believer creates God in his own image; if he is ugly, his God will be morally ugly. Why should moral ugliness be respectable?
Old age has its pleasures, which, though different, are not less than the pleasures of youth.
I don't regret what I've been through. I've had ups and downs, super highs and some really low lows. I've been so blessed that I could never say, "I wish this didn't happen." It's part of who I am. There's nothing in my life that's so ugh.
You can't please everyone, nor should you seek to, because then you won't please anyone, least of all yourself.
Of no distemper, of no blast he died, _x000D_ But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long: _x000D_ Even wonder'd at, because he dropp'd no sooner. _x000D_ Fate seem'd to wind him up for fourscore years; _x000D_ Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; _x000D_ Till like a clock worn out with eating time, _x000D_ The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart.
Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why.
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