Destiny

ByHeather

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.

— William Jennings Bryan

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  • Live Life’s Questions

    ByHeather

    I want to beg you as much as I can . . . to be patient towards all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek answers which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything.

    Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

    Take whatever comes with great trust, and if only it comes out of your own will, out of some need of your innermost being, take it upon yourself and hate nothing.

    — Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

  • Silence is Golden

    ByHeather

    I have nothing to say, and I am saying it.

    — Unknown

    For the last few weeks I have been intensely focused on the launch of the web site for Rizers, my new company. I haven’t had much to add to the daily quote file. Stay tuned for the official Rizers’ announcement.

  • Aim for the sea…

    ByHeather

    A ship is safe in the harbor, but that is not what ships are built for.

    — William Shedd (or possibly Rear Admiral Grace Murray Hopper)

    I taught high school in the early 80’s. I had this quote hanging on my classroom wall in one of those inspirational-type posters with a sailboat setting out to sea. I suppose I was trying to inspire my students to reach for adventure as they launched themselves into the world. I still draw inspiration from these words every time I am faced with the choice of a challenge and an adventure or playing it safe.

  • What is a Poet?

    ByHeather

    What is a poet? A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music. . . . And men crowd about the poet and say to him, “Sing for us again;” that is as much to say, “May new sufferings torment your soul, but may your lips be formed as before; for the cries would only frighten us but the music is delicious.”

    — Søren Kierkegaard

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