tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79655452011-12-14T19:00:11.401-08:00If you know Myers Briggs Type Indicators, I'm a "P". Now you know what to expect.Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.comBlogger221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-82430150841438598632010-06-10T12:12:00.000-07:002010-06-10T12:14:47.889-07:00

With everything, there's a line.On one side of the line is a greater chance to give more, enjoy more, realize more. On the other side, there's less of a chance.And with each line, there's a choice. You want to cross the line or you don't. You want the better chance at meaningful - opportunity - impact - or you settle with the lesser chance.Your choice. It seems simple but...Then there'll be those

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1169893381034171962007-01-27T02:21:00.000-08:002007-01-27T02:23:24.110-08:00

“It’s so hard to believe that what the world wants is us. It’s hard to believe, whatever you’re doing, that you’re enough. We are all, always, enough.” Barbara Cook, soprano

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1135628828774982822005-12-26T12:20:00.000-08:002005-12-26T12:27:08.786-08:00

When the song of angels is stilled,When the star in the sky is gone,When king and princes are home,When the shepherds are back with their flock,The work of Christmas begins:To find the lost,To heal the broken,To feed the hungry,To release the prisoner,To rebuild the nations,To bring peace among the brothers,To make music in the heart.By Howard Thurman

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1123532112811151102005-08-08T13:13:00.000-07:002005-08-08T13:15:12.820-07:00

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you achefor, and if you dare to dream of meeting your life’s longing.It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk lookinglike a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon.I want to know if you have touched the center of

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1120069928710309852005-08-03T11:31:00.000-07:002005-08-03T20:25:34.973-07:00

One day you finally knew what you had to doand began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice--though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles."Mend my life!"each voice criedBut you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingersat the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1121544016572947962005-07-16T12:53:00.000-07:002005-07-16T13:02:22.506-07:00

A TEMPERANCE SONG.Strained Verses Dedicated to Unstrained Water.By A. FILTERER.Bring a glass of sparkling water,Fill the goblet to the brim,Let the microscopic critters Take in it a harmless swim.Here are meat and drink united,Life, indeed, in this we see;Who'd exchange so rich a fluid For the baser eau de vie?Give us, then, no ale nor porter, Logwood wine, nor other drugs;But a glass of

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1120070244345635932005-06-29T11:32:00.000-07:002005-06-29T17:31:58.493-07:00

Mary OliverYou do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.You only have to let the soft animal of your bodylove what it loves.Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rainare moving across the landscapes,over the prairies and the deep trees,

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1119459243025022192005-06-22T09:52:00.000-07:002005-06-22T09:54:03.030-07:00

Anyone able to regard his or her own life and existence as an integral whole within the context of the whole, like the physicists, psychologists, and poets mentioned above, anyone able, as they were, to accept the future as the present, is accepting his or her own destiny. And acceptance of one’s destiny means freedom. And this freedom, once gained, has a remarkable corollary: that our freedom to

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1107809193464827762005-02-07T13:39:00.000-08:002005-02-07T12:46:33.463-08:00

These days a cop with any decency at all looks like a hero, The millionaire knows billionaires who think that he's a zero, The shoes a lord rejected are a godsend to the churl, And an immie in the shower looketh mighty like a pearl. So remember on those days when in your bed you shoulda stood, That somewhere there is someone who makes even you look good, It's only your perspective that has got

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093246081647707892004-10-22T09:26:00.000-07:002004-10-22T09:46:37.900-07:00

Some people do not have to search, they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it seriously.At times, I envy them, but usually I do not understand them. Seldom do they understand me. I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We're not unhappy, but neither are

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093245133654973402004-10-12T23:48:00.000-07:002004-10-12T13:56:02.193-07:00

You are the thinker of your thoughts and as such you are the maker of yourself and condition. Thought is causal and creative, and appears in your character and life in the form of results. There are no accidents in your life. Both its harmonies and antagonisms are the responsive echoes of your thoughts. A man thinks, and his life appears...You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1097207861367283482004-10-07T20:55:00.000-07:002004-10-07T20:57:41.366-07:00

"With 11 pieces of clothing there are 39,916,800 ways of getting dressed. Trying out one method every minute would take 76 years of life" Edward de Bono

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1096256994882762162004-09-26T20:49:00.000-07:002004-09-26T20:49:54.883-07:00

Fleeting sense of purpose 

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093243535772351372004-09-22T23:45:00.000-07:002004-09-24T17:49:53.760-07:00

Mind, like muscle, is developed by use, and the assiduous exercise of the mind in any given direction will develop, in that direction, mental capacity and power. The merely critical faculty is developed and strengthened by continuously comparing and analysing the ideas and opinions of others. But discrimination is something more and greater than criticism; it is a spiritual quality from which

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1095012802051363062004-09-12T11:13:00.000-07:002004-09-12T11:15:18.103-07:00

" Great ideas, it has been said, come into the world as gently as doves. Perhaps then, if we listen attentively, we shall hear, amid the uproar of empires and nations, a faint fluttering of wings, the gentle stirring of life and hope.Some will say this hope lies in a nation, others, in a man.I believe rather that it is awakened, revived and nourished by millions of solitary individuals whose

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093364661794923482004-08-24T09:22:00.000-07:002004-08-24T09:24:21.800-07:00

“I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.” Isaac Newton

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093247008565049252004-08-23T01:43:00.000-07:002004-09-21T13:01:39.160-07:00

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking. (If anyone has the attribution for this please let me know)

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093245446184655492004-08-23T01:15:00.000-07:002004-09-12T10:55:55.650-07:00

A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. All the other frogs gathered around the pit. When they saw how deep the pit was, they told the unfortunate frogs they would never get out. The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit. The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093248407322772382004-08-23T01:06:00.000-07:002004-08-23T01:10:29.763-07:00

Endless sea If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people together to collect wood, and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea. -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093246789937106592004-08-23T00:39:00.000-07:002004-08-23T00:40:16.266-07:00

The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she thought: still it had very long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect. "Cheshire Puss," she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider."Come, it's pleased so far," thought Alice, and she went on. "Would you

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093130849712888452004-08-21T16:21:00.000-07:002004-08-21T16:32:26.306-07:00

He remembers barely able to walk, fitting on his first snowshoes and falling, falling into windswept snow, struggling to stand. Knowing this failure as his own whiteness, he dreamed always dreamed of the day he would learn (it all, to split ash, heat it over the fire to make it workable, to weave a spidery pattern of sinew and raw mooshide). And the day came, no, it was night. He doesn't

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7965545.post-1093129601570139482004-08-21T16:03:00.000-07:002004-08-23T18:34:39.880-07:00

The Trail then is not merely a connecting link between widely distant points, it becomes an idea, a symbol of self-sacrifice and deathless determination, an ideal to be lived up to, a creed from which none may falter. Grey Owl, Men of the Last Frontier

Ann Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15656726949152474487noreply@blogger.com0