poet Now the first is a poet with talent He sets up process with complete balance Every scribble every rhyme pushing the limits I’m his mind and infinite maze that thoughts emit His words so soulful and yet so lonely It’s hard to he’s written them only By night he’s dark and brute By day he’s soft as soot His name.is paim that’s without a doubt Every morning his mind pours on paper like a spout He’s not too loud and not too quiet With all he writes you would think he’s a root But alas he’s not , a timid
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it stuck between two piles, Ooops! My mind did not reject me to stop for a look, I found my little finger trapped between Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Chitra Divakarunni. Suddenly did I notice the beautiful cover of the book on which rest of my four fingers relaxed, none other than the elegant greenish metallic cover of “One Amazing Thing” by Chitra Divakarunni. Even though, I had no time to browse through, I felt as though It was my fingers’ gift for my mind the particular day. I started reading through
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create the most beautiful dream come true, or your word can destroy everything you own within seconds. One side is the misuse of the word, which creates a living hell. The other side is the perfection of the word, which is capable of giving you heaven on earth. Precisely, what you dream, what you feel and what you really are, is all manifested through your words. The author advises that in order to be impeccable with your word, you must plant positive opinions and thoughts in your mind; take responsibility
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Sonia PAIN, I have realized, is beautiful only when one can rise from its depressing power. I have known people who have become bitter and cynical under the lash of sorrow; and I have known some who never recovered from anguish. My experience is important only so far as it may help others toward growth; it is worthless to me if it implies vanity. Sonia to me is a fairy tale half told or a lyric half lost in fancy, a delicate melody unsung. Had she grown into full womanhood, she might have become
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Skateboarding is a beautiful form of art. It's not about board flips or running from the cops. A participant in midair resembles spontaneous art; located on the canvas. The skaters paint a vivid picture on the sidewalk with their boards. It's about more than skating. The sport is a celebration of life. People from all over the plant partake. Some of them from common backgrounds. Others have nothing in common. Yet one thing brings them all together. A passion for something incredibly unique and simplistic
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A different way out in A Beautiful Mind Summary: In 1947 a brilliant mathematician by the name of John Nash arrives at Princeton University among other bright students of the prestigious Carnegie Scholarship. He first meets his new roommate by the name of Charles and an unlikely friendship develops, he is pressure to publish but refuses to do so until he finds a truly original idea. Upon inspiration at a local bar he then writes his new concept on governing dynamics, Nash is first approach by
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As far as Metaphysics goes, I have a lot more going on in my mind about that. I wonder what really exists, and if all that I see really exists or if I am simply dreaming and I am in my own dream and my own reality that simply intertwines with other people’s individual reality dreams. If that is true, does that mean every person sees the world different from his or her own eyes? I know that is partially true since not everyone has the same opinions on the same things, but I wonder if people really
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these three literary devices to get the reader interested in what he has to say . Wordsworth even shows how he feels when he uses these in a certain way. By doing these things Wordsworth begins to build a picture of his surroundings in the audience’s mind. “I Wandered as Lonely as a Cloud” becomes more than just a poem it becomes art. The first line portrays a wonderful use of personification “I wandered lonely as a cloud”(line 1) immediately creates a sense of melancholy.Wordsworth compares himself
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dearly loved can bring to the soul. I have known the darkness of occasional brooding, but I would dwell most upon a struggle with sorrow that has sweetened my nature, which otherwise, would have been stultified by the pain. Pain, I have realized, is beautiful only when one can rise from its depressing power. I have known the people who have become bitter and cynical under the lash of sorrow, and I have known some who have never recovered from anguish. My experience is important only so far as it may help
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It is suggestive rather than explanatory, its object being to stimulate men and women to the discovery and perception of the truth that - "They themselves are makers of themselves" by virtue of the thoughts which they choose and encourage; that mind is the master weaver, both of the inner garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance, and that, as they may have hitherto woven in ignorance and pain they may now weave in enlightenment and happiness. James Allen Chapter One Thought
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