Our business in life is not to succeed, but to continue to fail in good spirits.
Robert Louis StevensonRead
It was for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills. Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon his face?
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the mystery and duality of identity, raising questions about appearances versus reality.
In this quote, the speaker describes a fleeting encounter that left a profound impact, evoking a visceral reaction. The mention of a 'mask' suggests themes of hidden identities and the complexity of one's true self versus their outward presentation. It invites contemplation on why individuals might conceal who they truly are, echoing broader existential questions about the nature of reality and perception.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of authenticity, one might use this quote to highlight how people often hide their true selves.
Our business in life is not to succeed, but to continue to fail in good spirits.
Like a bird singing in the rain, let grateful memories survive in time of sorrow.
That man is a success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much.
His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of their life with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by the many ill things he had done, and raised up again into sober and fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to doing, yet avoided.
The habit of being happy enables one to be freed, or largely freed, from the domination of outward conditions.
It is the history of our kindnesses that alone make this world tolerable. If it were not for that, for the effect of kind words, kind looks, kind letters . . . I should be inclined to think our life a practical jest in the worst possible spirit.
There is a spiritual side to me that goes real deep, but I confess right up front that I'm the biggest sinner of them all.
Over the weekend the vultures got into the presidential palace by pecking through the screens on the balcony windows and the flapping of their wings stirred up the stagnant time inside, and at dawn on Monday the city awoke out of its lethargy of centuries with the warm, soft breeze of a great man dead and rotting grandeur.
Consciousness is a singular for which there is no plural.
She had to live in this bright, red gabled house with the nurse until it was time for her to die... I thought how little we know about the feelings of old people. Children we understand, their fears and hopes and make-believe.
There have been low moments before, but Christianity is an incredibly adaptable organism, using different parts of its repertoire to mutate into new ecological niches, yet preserving intact its story of grace, of love improbably triumphant.
Our churches are filled with Christians who are idling in intellectual neutral. As Christians, their minds are going to waste. One result of this is an immature, superficial faith. People who simply ride the roller coaster of emotional experience are cheating themselves out of a deeper and richer Christian faith by neglecting the intellectual side of that faith.
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