We, in the interest of the so-called progress, have been persuaded to leave the production and at times the cooking of our food to companies whose owners and employees make a living by exploiting our busyness or laziness and our innate hunger to continue living.
In some cases, you can tell how somebody is being treated by their own boss from the way they are treating someone to whom they are a boss.
Nothing belongs to itself anymore. These trees are yours because you once looked at them. These streets are yours because you once traversed them. These coffee shops and bookshops, these cafés and bars, their sole owner is you. They gave themselves so willingly, surrendering to your perfume. You sang with the birds and they stopped to listen to you. You smiled at the sheepish stars and they fell into your hair. The sun and moon, the sea and mountain, they have all left from heartbreak. Nothing belongs to itself anymore. You once spoke to Him, and then God became yours. He sits with us in darkness now to plot how to make you ours.” K.K.
When the heart is beautiful, its light shines though the eyes, vocal tones and actions of its owner.
I didn’t want a story—a beginning. Not anymore. I have long ago stopped walking on a road where my dreams walk around. I change my destination a hundred times if I ever see an old wish of mine standing there in its real form. I don’t know them. I don’t want to. They too must not know me. They too must not recognise me as their owner.
Other’s power, other’s enjoyments, other’s space, people have become the owners of that which does not belong to one’s self. If they become the owners of ‘Self’, death is no more; One is himself, the Absolute Supreme Soul.
Like the cat who finds her way back home over a thousand miles, like the dog who waits for his master to arrive on the train that never comes, like the one who keeps a vigil at her master’s grave until she too can cross the bridge, some people and their pets are woven together by threads of life and they cannot, and will not, for long be separated.
I’ have not had to borrow or beg for years. This world is indeed all yours. If you know how to 'see', if you know how to view the world, if you know how to understand the world, then the world is truly all yours. You are truly the Owner.
Technically, you cannot really own a book you bought; you can only own the sheets of paper your copy is printed on; unless, of course, you are the book’s publisher.
We are like the moon. The moon shines anyway, but it does not produce its own light. It reflects the light illuminated onto its surface by the Sun and is never proud to say I am the source of light. God shines through us, hence He deserves the glory; not us.
A book about books is like a poem about poetry:Books are knowledge, paid for, all.Readers - horses in a stall.Stallions should always run.Lest they stale become, in turn.Running waters are most clear.In some books, you disappear –lose yourself, and track of time.How I wish that one was mine...Mine, to have, to write, to read...Mine, just like a flying steed.Mine, forever, - to improve.Would I then, of me, approve?I would not, I can't... myself.I'm but dust, swept off a shelf.Fly, can I, just 'til I'm settled,down, beside my flower, petalled.
You wouldn’t get in a car and drive around aimlessly, hoping to eventually arrive at a pleasant destination. So why would you even consider doing this for your business?
Every true leader is in the business of God. The good news is that God’s business does not yield loses. Most leaders fail because they claim to be in a business whose owner they never know!
Just because you have stolen someone's heart, luckily owned and occupied as a home, doesn't give you the audacity to enforce hurtful policies.
The police have no leads as yet on the person or persons who painted obscene suggestions on the buildings. One store owner said he was going to leave a dictionary on a public bench so the vandals could at least spell the obscenities correctly.
He slumped down in the command seat and shut off the irritating alarm. He sighed again. It seemed to be a wonderful day for Mykl d’Angelo, captain and owner of the ‘tramp’ freighter Pegasus. As wonderful days went on his personal scale, this one was rated one of the best.