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Quote by David Boyne

“When things are going well, New Yorkers complain, when things are going badly, New Yorkers complain, and when things are fucked up beyond all reason, New Yorkers shut up and do whatever needs to be done.”

Quote by David Boyne

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David Boyne

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“The essence of shamanic healing is to work with our past so that it lives within us differently and we are no longer caught in old habits--and to align with a future that is more desirable for us and Spirit. By working with the past and future in this way, we make better decisions in the present.”

“And so too, in later years, when I began to write a book of my own, and the quality of some sentences seemed so inadequate that I could not make up my mind to go on with the undertaking. I would find the equivalent in Bergotte. But it was only then, when I read them in his pages, that I could enjoy them; when it was I myself who composed them, in my anxiety that they should exactly reproduce what I had perceived in my mind's eye, and in my fear of their not turning out "true to life," how could I find time to ask myself whether what I was writing was pleasing!”

“Whatever the world does, is indeed all a natural discharge [disposal of karma]. You may chant God’s name, you may do penance; it is all nature’s discharge. If someone garlands you, how is he obliging you? And if someone picks your pocket, how is he hurting you? One is instrumental in the charging (creation of new karma), but in the discharge, it is only nature’s doing. This is the ultimate vision of the Vitraags, the Enlightened ones free of attachment.”

“It's easy to forget when you're around." She stopped walking for a moment and I had to stop too, as she'd linked her arm in mine. "That's not right. I mean to say that when you're around, it's easy to forget." "Forget what?" "Everything," she said, and for a moment her voice wasn't quite as playful. "All the bad parts in my life. Who I am. It's nice to be able to take a vacation from myself every once in a while. You help with that. You're my safe harbor in an endless, stormy sea.”

“Kilvin’s face broke into a great white smile. “Good. I would not have wanted to lose you to the other side of the river. Music is a fine thing, but metal lasts.” He struck the table with two huge fingers to emphasize his point. Then he made a shooing motion with the hand that held his unfinished lamp. “Go. Do not be late for work or I will keep you polishing bottles and grinding ore for another term.” As I left, I thought about what Kilvin had said. It was the first thing he had said to me that I did not agree with wholeheartedly. Metal rusts, I thought, music lasts forever. Time will eventually prove one of us right.”