I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
Gilda RadnerRead
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I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
The only joy in the world is to begin.
All endings are also beginnings. We just don't know it at the time.
Life is simple. Everything happens for you, not to you.
Fortunate people often have very favorable beginnings and very tragic endings. What matters isn't being applauded when you arrive - for that is common - but being missed when you leave.
Life is not so much about beginnings and endings as it is about going on and on and on. It is about muddling through the middle.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop.
Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.
At such times the universe gets a little closer to us. They are strange times, times of beginnings and endings. Dangerous and powerful. And we feel it even if we don't know what it is. These times are not necessarily good, and not necessarily bad. In fact, what they are depends on what *we* are.
Life is simple. Everything happens for you, not to you. Everything happens at exactly the right moment, neither too soon nor too late. You don't have to like it... it's just easier if you do.
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