As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.
Henry Van DykeRead
Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air; And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair; And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome; But when it comes to living, there is no place like home.
Interpretation
This quote celebrates the unique charms of various cities while ultimately emphasizing the unmatched comfort and significance of one's home.
Henry Van Dyke's quote contrasts the enchanting aspects of iconic cities—London's power, Paris's beauty, Venice's dreaminess, and Rome's educational allure—with the profound sense of belonging and comfort that can only be found at home. It suggests that while travel can be inspiring and fulfilling, true fulfillment is found in the familiarity and security of one's own living space.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of home during a community event.
As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.
It is with rivers as it is with people: the greatest are not always the most agreeable nor the best to live with.
Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, "This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; Of all who live, I am the one by whom This work can best be done in the right way."
And you will remember that love is not getting, but giving; not a wild dream of pleasure, and a madness of desire — oh no, love is not that — it is goodness, and honour, and peace, and pure living — yes, love is that; and it is the best thing in the world, and the thing that lives longest.
No amount of energy will take the place of thought. A strenuous life with its eyes shut is a kind of wild insanity.
A peace that depends on fear is nothing but a suppressed war.
It is the stories we don't get, the ones we miss, pass over, fail to recognize, don't pick up on, that will send us to hell.
It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.
Nobody stopped thinking about those psychedelic experiences. Once you've been to some of those places, you think, 'How can I get back there again but make it a little easier on myself?'
I turned away from him and went on my way, up the street and about my business. The past was dead. The future was resignation, fatality, and could only end one way now. The present was numbness, that could feel nothing. Like Novocaine needled into your heart. What was there in all the dimensions of time for me? ("Life Is Weird Sometimes" first chapter of unpublished novel THE LOSER)
One of the things that has helped me as much as any other is not how long I am going to live, but how much I can do while living.
Football is an honest game. It's true to life. It's a game about sharing. Football is a team game. So is life.
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