Better late than never.... Right?
Entry 1
"You can't keep the birds of sadness from flying over your head, but you can keep them from nesting in your hair."
Sharon Creech, from Walk Two Moons
Entry 2
A bit of dialog from Forrest Gump. (note: some minor modifications have been made to this quote in consideration of FFT's family-friendly standards)
Drill Sergeant: GUMP! What's your sole purpose in this army?!
Forrest Gump: To do whatever you tell me, drill sergeant!
Drill Sergeant: Gump! You're a genius! That's the most outstanding answer I have ever heard! You must have an I.Q. of 160! You are gifted, Private Gump! Listen up, people...
Forrest Gump: [narrating] Now for some reason I fit in the army like one of them round pegs. It's not really hard. You just make your bed real neat and remember to stand up straight and always answer every question with "Yes, drill sergeant!"
Drill Sergeant: This is one very intelligent individual! You lock your scuzzy bodies up behind that private and do exactly what he does, and you will go far in this man's army! Is that clear?!
Forrest Gump, Recruits: YES, DRILL SERGEANT!
Entry 3
I have noticed even people who claim everything is predestined, and that we can do nothing to change it, look before they cross the road.
Stephen Hawking
In case you hadn't heard, Dr. Hawking was hospitilzed this week but should recover
Entry 4
Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
In honor of National Poetry Month, this poem (and the Raven, which was already quote by John) are the earliest poems I remember from my life. I remember seeing a book of Shel Silverstein's poems called Where the Sidewalk Ends sometime in elementary school. It had a funny picture on the cover.
