thought-provoking

_"Tell me, sir, what is a butterfly?""It's what you are meant to become. It flies with beautiful wings and joins the earth to heaven. It drinks only nectar from the flowers and carries the seeds of love from one flower to another. Without butterflies, the world would soon have few flowers.

Everyone who__ born has come from the sea. Your mother__ womb is just a sea in small. And birds come of seas on eggs. Horses lie in the sea before they__e born. The placenta is the sea. Your blood is the sea continued in your veins. We are the ocean _ walking on the land.

... if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.

If I stood you in front of a man, pressed the cold metal of a gun into your palm and told you to squeeze the trigger, would you do it?''No, sir.''Are you sure?''Of course, sir. No ways!''What if I then told you we'd gone back in time and his name was Adolf Hitler? Would you do it then? Would you?

How can the removal of beauty from a world so lacking in beauty be anything but tragic?

Sometimes I wonder if any of us are cut out for the lives we lead.

...Dickey Perrott, you Jago whelp, look at them - look hard. Some day if you are clever - cleverer than anyone in the Jago right now - if you're only scoundrel enough, and brazen enough, and lucky enough - one of a thousand - maybe you'll be like them: bursting with high living, drunk when you like, red and pimply. There it is - that's your aim in life - there's your pattern. Learn to read and write, learn all you can, learn cunning, spare nobody and stop at nothing, and perhaps - It's the best the world has for you, for the Jago's got you, and that's the only way out, except gaol and the gallows. So do your devil most, or God help you, Dicky Perrot - though he wont: for the Jago's got you!

BAIT GOATThere is a distance where magnets pull, we feel, having held them back. Likewise there is a distance where words attract. Set one out like a bait goat and wait and seven others will approach. But watch out: roving packs can pull your word away. You find your stake yanked and some rough bunch to thank.

A slave mentality which had been built into him by years of carrot-and-whip grading, a mule mentality which said, __f you don__ whip me, I won__ work._ He didn__ get whipped. He didn__ work.

Talk To God Ch 13 p. 90: No it doesn't have to be a prayer. It could be someone just concentrating extremely hard, wishing or hoping that will create "the vibe" if they are so moved. And that vibe, as you will learn, becomes extremely powerful beyond earth. That vibe drives the universe. But don't confuse this. Forget about prayers. You don't need to pray to communicate with others. That's a religious definition, not a human or a God thing. When you are concentrating on your wishes, focusing on something you desire or wish to share, your soul and spirit are reaching out to all other humans near you, using your brain as the communicator and returning the support to you. If people near you are aware and are moved to respond, they will. And that response is a powerful, electric, spirited response that carries with it the ability to give that person the supporting power, the strength and the ability to assist them in doing whatever it is they desire. And what all humans desire, and the energy that is exchanged with one another, in human terms, is love.

Disasters are called natural, as if nature were the executioner and not the victim

What about an amnesiac, who awakes having lost his memories and must learn of his past from scratch? Has he died? How can we be just memories? How does that leave us with enough?

Sometimes money is the only thing that people have and they feel threatened when they think they are losing it.

And if anyone asks, you're Chinese. The boy had nodded. "Chinese," he whispered. "I'm Chinese." "And I," said the girl, "am the Queen of Spain." "In your dreams," said the boy. "In my dreams," said the girl, "I'm the King.

We'd stared into Death's eyes and Death blinked first.

Then we are living in a place abandoned by God," I said, disheartened."Have you found any places where God would have felt at home?" William asked me, looking down from his great height.

It's just like John Mayer says in "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room". When it's this bad, you have to get out or you'll get burned.

Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old creeds, through a revery of long days and nights; destined finally to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all wars fought, all faiths in man shaken...