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Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year

Book by Richelle E. Goodrich · 50 quotes · Richelle Goodrich, Richelle, Richelle E Goodrich

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Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year Quotes

“Though I love you to the core of my being, so thoroughly that every cell comprising me aches to be near you, I must accept that we can never be together. For our existence parallels the sun and the moon—a temptation in constant, beautiful view, yet if the sun were ever to kiss the moon it would devour the heavenly orb whole. Oh, my darling, if only I were the moon! Then I would dare taste your lips and be happy for my last and final joy! But alas, I am the sun, and I will not venture to destroy the one I love.”

“We try so hard to instruct our children in all the right things―teaching good from bad, explaining choices and consequences―when in reality most lessons are learned through observation and experience. Perhaps we'd be better off training our youth to be highly observant.”

“Seemingly insignificant choices are like seemingly trivial seeds. Once planted, they root and grow and spread into something tremendous. Imagine the prickly weeds some choices amount to over time and be careful not to plant them.”

“From the beginning, man could look up at a vast universe dotted by innumerable stars to find every evidence that he was nothing. This evidence only grows stronger as science and technology record an expanse of galaxies filled with planetary solar systems beyond any visible end. Man is but a grain of sand lost on an endless seashore, and yet he believes with conviction in his own greatness.  He is either a divine soul intuitively aware of his inherent, limitless potential—or he is a blind fool.”

“Itches and Burs There once was a mother-and-daughterly pair Who both had an itch just beneath their long hair. Each had a bur with the prickles attached Under a belt at the mid of her back. “Oh, daughter, please scratch at my itch, will you not? And pluck out the bur—I would thank you a lot!” “I can’t,” said the daughter, “My own bur does sting. And try as I may I can’t reach the darn thing!” “Oh pain!” groaned the daughter. The mom cried, “Oh drat!” As each strained to reach her own bur at her back. “It prickles like needles! It tickles like feathers!” But easing the scratch was a fruitless endeavor. The daughter about gave a sigh of despair When all of a sudden her prick was not there. The itch too was gone with some scritches and scrapes Applied by old fingers in arthritic shape. The daughter, so grateful to feel such relief, Turned ’round to her mother and plucked out her grief. She scratched her mom’s itch just as she had done hers. Now neither has itches and neither has burs.”

“Mothers were meant to love us unconditionally, to understand our moments of stupidity, to reprimand us for lame excuses while yet acknowledging our point of view, to weep over our pain and failures as well as cry at our joy and successes, and to cheer us on despite countless start-overs. Heaven knows no one else will.”

“'I'm sorry' won't fix what's been broken.  It can't reverse time or undo the damage or change anything that happened.  But a sincere, humble apology can serve to soften the sting and sometimes do a pretty good patch up job.”

“Life is a harsh, twisted paradox. On one hand, you wish for no pain or suffering or misery on anyone. Yet you hope to see your children grow into individuals of compassionate and kind character. And it seems that pain, suffering, and misery adequately humble an individual, cultivating empathy and understanding for others in similar plights. While a life of ease and comfort and pleasure often fosters extravagant and selfish habits, spurring pride and blinded vision. Still, you pray for no pain or suffering on your children. Life is a harsh, twisted paradox.”

“It seems a peculiar thing when I go to fill my own cup; it remains empty as if the liquid evaporates as soon as it touches the glass. Yet when I reach to top off the cups of others, my own spills over. This is the crazy magic of charity.”

“I love when the sun plays hide-n-seek for a few days because its invisibility often goes unnoticed. The world seems content that its presence behind the clouds is enough. But as soon as that brilliant sun jumps into the open sky once again―shining in full splendor―our closed eyes automatically turn toward it, and we bask beneath a warm and tender touch, grateful all the more that our glorious sun exists.”

“Minutes turn into hours that add up to days amounting to weeks that become  months melting into years accumulating for decades to pile up for centuries and ultimately form minutes again― just on a grander, divine scale.”

“It is a difficult thing―if not impossible―to forgive oneself for foolish errors, not for trampling a life or goring another with sharp horns, but for being the fool who opened the gate and let the bull out, blind to potential consequences.”

“Don't give up. I know you've made a thousand attempts to reach your goal, but look at it this way: after repeatedly banging your head against the wall, you ought to be numb enough break through this time.”

“It's been a harsh fight. You've been pummeled and knocked down. Your body aches, flesh torn and bruised. Your eyes can hardly see through a stream of blood. But you are cognizant and alive; therefore, you rise from the fight. This is life. It will test your will, your strength, and endurance. It will challenge your faith and convictions. It will scar your hopes and try your beliefs. In the end, life validates those who refuse to stay down.”

“Autumn is a cunning muse who steals by degrees my warmth and light. So distracted by her glorious painting of colors, I scarcely realize my losses until the last fiery leaf has fallen to the ground and the final pumpkin shrinks. Autumn departs with a cold kiss, leaving me to suffer the frigid grasp of winter in prolonged nightfall.”

“The first real day of spring is like the first time a boy holds your hand. A flood of skin-tingling warmth consumes you, and everything shines with a fresh, colorful glow, making you forget that anything as cold and harsh as winter ever existed.”

“Corned beef and cabbage and leprechaun men. Colorful rainbows hide gold at their end. Shamrocks and clovers with three leaves plus one. Dress up in green—add a top hat for fun. Steal a quick kiss from the lasses in red. A tin whistle tune off the top of my head. Friends, raise a goblet and offer this toast— 'The luck of the Irish and health to our host!'”

“Today You Soar "Like the grand eagle, you spread your wings And put forth the effort to do great things. Looking skyward you dared to challenge the wind, Harnessing power to help you ascend. With an eye on the goal, fixed in flight, You climbed to an impressive height. Undaunted by gusts and unkind gails, You never gave up and would not fail. So now you’ve reached where few even try As the eagle high in a glorious sky. Not superior, but grand. Not proud, but sure. Not a cub, wolf, or bear but an eagle pure. Today you soar.”

“Beauty isn’t visible; I don’t know why people think it is. Perhaps because at times there are physical manifestations suggesting beauty exists in a person, but don’t be fooled. Beauty isn’t the packaging, it’s the treasure wrapped up inside.”

“Reality and fantasy are not two separate spheres but one whole. They are like a world's atmosphere―reality behaving as a low front, fantasy a high front. Each remains somewhat distinguishable and yet they swirl and join, affecting and manipulating the other. One cannot perceive where reality ends and fantasy begins, but life would grow stagnant and die without the influence of both.”