Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him/Her to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952
OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbow'd.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
W. E Henley
Mama, I'm Strange by Melissa Etheridge
What's this little lie They keep on telling me It's just another high They keep on selling me I was only five They fed me so much jive They said just have a ball Just be a Barbie doll They churned and burned me out Until they turned me out Over and over again
Mama I'm strange The thoughts and the wants are the locks On the back of my brain I'm descending pretending I'm blending I'm going insane And they want me to change Mama I'm strange
I'm on a shaky wall I'm tripping down the hall And all the king's men can't Can't sew me up again I've got a leaky head Don't know the full extent I'm drowning in my bed I'm just an accident They chewed and blew me out Until they threw me out Over and over again
If I could tranquilize I might just vaporize They couldn't supervise They couldn't criticize I have no evidence I have no reverence It makes no difference I have no innocence
Help me mama help me now
Ephemera W.B. Yeats
'Your eyes that once were never weary of mine Are bowed in sorrow under pendulous lids, Because our love is waning.' And then she:
'Although our love is waning, let us stand By the lone border of the lake once more, Together in that hour of gentleness When the poor tired child, Passion, falls asleep: How far away the stars seem, and how far Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!'
Pensive they paced along the faded leaves, While slowly he whose hand held hers replied: 'Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.'
The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once A rabbit old and lame limped down the path; Autumn was over him: and now they stood On the lone border of the lake once more: Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes, In bosom and hair.
'Ah, do not mourn,' he said,
'That we are tired, for other loves await us; Hate on and love through unrepining hours. Before us lies eternity; our souls Are love, and a continual farewell.'