Say I feel all sad and self-indulgent, then get stung by a wasp, my misery feels quite abstract and I long just to be in spirtual pain once more - 'damn you tiny assain, clad in yellow and black, how i crave my former innocence where melancholy was my only trial'.
Logos and branding are so important. In a big part of the world, people cannot read French or English--but are great in remembering signs
Your brand is formed primarily, not by what your company says about itself, but what the company does.
You are my brother and I love you. I love you worshipping in your church, kneeling in your temple, and praying in your mosque. You and I and all are children of one religion, for the varied paths of religion are but the fingers of the loving hand of the Supreme Being, extended to all, offering completeness of spirit to all, anxious to receive all.
And when you were a silent word upon Life's quivering lips, I too was there, another silent word. Then life uttered us and we came down the years throbbing with memories of yesterday and with longing for tomorrow, for yesterday was death conquered and tomorrow was birth pursued.
When you were a wandering desire in the mist, I too was there, a wandering desire. Then we sought one another, and out of our eagerness dreams were born. And dreams were time limitless, and dreams were space without measure.
Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?
The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone for a clue to who we are and who, for better or worse, we are becoming. But again and again we avoid the long thoughts
It's not what you know it's who you know
Bran was the only person I knew who could use words like
I came here to be for all and with all, and what I do today in my solitude will be echoed tomorrow by the multitude. What I say now with one heart will be said tomorrow by thousands of hearts...
Our parents' generation carried the past memorialized in paint, porcelain, and wood; we cast it off. Even our national history is remembered in terms of the worst we did, not the best.
Christmas garland and a rock?
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
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Wow, that's a lot. Basically I have been trying to build a career for myself. I learned early on what to... - Alana Evans
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