In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest:
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins.
Life’s but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things—God.
The dead have all the glory of the world.
“Remember above all things, Kid, that to write is not difficult, not painful, that it comes out of you with ease, that you can whip up a little tale in no time, that when you are sincere about it, that when you want to impress a truth, it is not difficult, not painful, but easy, graceful, full of smooth power, as if you were a writing machine with a store of literature that is boundless, enormous, endless, and rich. For it is true; this is so. Do not forget it in your gloomier moments. Make your stuff warm, drive it home American-wise, don’t mind critics, don’t mind the stuffy academic theses of scholars, they don’t know what they’re talking about, they’re way off the track, they’re cold; you’re warm, you’re redhot, you can write all day, you know what you know, like Halper; you remember that, Kid, and when you feel as if you cannot write, as if it is no use, as if life is no good, read this over and realize that you can do a lot of good in this world by turning out truths like these, by spreading warmth, by trying to preach living for life’s sake, not the intellectual way, but the warm way, the way of love, the way which says: Brothers, I greet you with open arms, I accept your frailties, I offer you my frailties, let us gather and run the gamut of rich human existence. Remember, Kid, the ease, the grace, the glory, the greatness of your art; remember it, never forget. Remember passion. Do not forget, do not forsake, do not neglect. It is there, the order and the purpose; there is chaos, but not in you, not way down deep in your heart, no chaos, only ease, grace, beauty, love, greatness…..Kid, you can whip a little tale in no time; it is a cinch, you are the flow of smooth thrumming power, you are a writer, and you can turn out some mean stuff, and you will turn out tons of it, because it is you, and do not forget it, Kid, do not forget it; please, please Kid, do not forget yourself; save that, save that, preserve yourself; turn out those mean little old tales by the dozens, it is easy, it is grace, do it American-wise, drive it home, sell truth, for it needs to be sold. Remember, Kid, what I say to you tonight; never forget it, read this over in your gloomier moments and never, never forget…..never, never, never forget…..please, please, Kid please…”
- Jack Kerouac
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night;
To know the pain of too much tenderness;
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willfully and joyfully.
Little pink lemon chiffon babycakes. Story, photos and more over on The Cupcaketologist.
“ The Lady Cake is a miniature lemon chiffon layer cake, topped with a fluffy lemon buttercream. From the outside it’s light, fancy and whimsical, something truly dreamy and sweet. But underneath it is sturdy and full of dimension, layer upon layer, building up to be one strong piece of cake.
When I think about the women I admire most, relatives, icons, friends and my mother, what I find in common is a rare mixture of both dignity and courage. She is the one who balances the line of grace and attitude. She is naturally private, always a step ahead, yet completely unafraid to elbow her way through to where she wants to go. She is a gentlewoman among men. She defies time and place. But most of all, she has gumption. ”
wow. http://thecupcaketologist.blogspot.com/ is wonderful.the cupcakes themselves are beyond amazing, but her writing is equally as heart-lifting and enjoyable. mmmmmm i wish i could have a “Cakebomb” right now.