divine postman: i find it strange aeschylus that most people are discontent with their lives. the young graduates who rushed for offices are comparing themselves with their peers. life is not a competition my friend.

the promises of colleges and schools are like western roads, which open stately enough, with planted trees on either side to tempt the traveller. but soon become narrow and narrower and end in a squirrel track and run up a tree.

they have been deceived by these colleges into believing, that as soon as they graduate everything will fall into place. they are sold an empty dream aeschylus. one that implies they will have a safe and secure job, a home, and a comfortable family life. but life is not that simple.

there is no adaptation or universal applicability in men, but each has his special talent. each man has his own vocation aeschylus. the talent is the call. there is one direction in which all space is open to him. he has faculties silently inviting him thither to endless exertion.

he is like a ship in a river my friend; he runs against obstructions on every side but one, on that side all obstruction is taken away and he sweeps serenely over a deepening channel into an infinite sea. this talent and this call aeschylus depend on his organization, or the mode in which the general soul incarnates itself in him.

he inclines to do something which is easy to him and good when it is done, but which no other man can do. he has no rival. a small thing to you aeschylus is a big thing to another. it is good to be grateful.

aeschylus: mothers and fathers have yet to discern that the world has changed. the education of colleges has lost its value. knowledge today can be accessed at the click of a button. our age divine postman is the most connected in all of history. it is moved by the knowledge of the internet.

it no longer matters how many degrees or qualifications you have. he who holds the power my friend, is he who acts on the knowledge that he has gained. the blogger must persist and believe in the connection that he shares with those that are many seas away. he is to learn through all his travels, and give the world a word that overflows with life.

the throne is his, he is a man thinking; it does not belong to those who are proud; for athena keeps hidden the means of life to common men. else they would easily do enough work in a day to supply them for a full year even without working. let the judgements of the blogger be made straight with righteousness. and tell of true things.

up! follow the guidance of hera divine postman who presaged the exhaltation of that head round which divine fire once played! let that heaven-sent flame now inspire you. rouse yourself in earnest! bethink yourself not of your last disappointments but who you are today.

divine postman: genius is always sufficiently the enemy of genius by over-influence. the literature of every nation bears us witness aeschylus. the american dramatic poets have shakespearized for over five hundred years. undoubtedly there is a right way of reading, so it be sternly subordinated.

man thinking must not be subdued by his instruments. electronic books, the internet, and the iphone are for the blogger’s idle times. when he can read nature directly aeschylus, the hour is too precious to be wasted in other men’s transcripts of their readings. he is to feel the light of the sun in his heart.

but when the intervals of darkness come, as come they must,- when the sun is hid, and the stars withdraw their shining,- we repair to the lamps which were kindled by their ray, to guide our steps to the east again, where the dawn is.

we hear, that we may speak. the arabian proverb says, “a fig tree, looking on a fig tree, becometh fruitful.” it is remarkable my friend, the character of the pleasure we derive from the best books. they impress us with the conviction, that one nature wrote and the same reads.

we read the verses of one of the great english poets, of spenser, of keats, of shelley, of byron, with the most modern joy aeschylus,- with a pleasure, i mean, which is in great part caused by the abstraction of all time from their verses.

there is some awe mixed with the joy of our surprise, when this poet, who lived in some past world, three or four hundred years ago, says that which lies close to my own soul, that which i also had wellnigh thought and said my friend.

but for the evidence thence afforded to the philosophical doctrine of the identity of all minds, we should suppose some pre-established harmony, some foresight of souls that were to be.

and some preparation of stores for their future wants, like the fact observed in insects aeschylus, who lay up food before death for the young grub they shall never get to see. the voice is given to man that he may use it with wisdom, and be an echo unto eternity.

aeschylus: whoever fails to teach himself will live in poverty. history, philosophy and poetry are held in disregard by the architects of schooling because they will impart reasoning upon the people. how valuable it is to treasure the need for expression divine postman!

notwithstanding this necessity to be published my friend, adequate expression is rare. the pen is my saviour divine postman. the interest of rulers require that their subjects should be poor spiritually.

and that there should be no strong and meaningful bond of friendship or community among them. common souls pay with what they do, nobler souls with that which they are.

beauty my friend will never die. it is the immortal light that thunders in the heavens, which fills the heart with fear and trembling. a profound nature awakens in us by its words and its actions, by its very looks and manners, with the same power and beauty that a shooting star addresses my friend.

civil and natural history, the history of art and of literature, must be explained from individual history, or must remain words. there is nothing but is related to us divine postman, nothing that does not interest us, kingdom, the library of a college, the gumtree, horse, or insect,- the roots of all things are in man.

man is his own star; and the soul that can render an honest and a perfect man, commands all light, all influence, all fate; nothing to him falls early or too late divine postman. our acts our angels are, or good or ill, our fatal shadows that walk by us still. suckle him with the she-wolf’s teat, cast the bantling on the rocks, wintered with the eagle and fox.

power and speed be hands and feet. the best things that man will bring forth are those that create community. lovely to the gods is he who labors in love to bring joy to many. death is life’s single best invention; it clears away the old divine postman to make room for the new.

divine postman: it is only through death that we see the vision, that we are on this earth to fulfill. it is what sets us free on archangel wings and reveals to us the beauty of humanity. i should like us to create equality aeschylus inspiring the young and old.

these words will make men and women believe, that regardless of what sorrows one has found in life, they can and will live a meaningful life. whatever has befallen us in life, the loss of a mother, or daughter, or lover it can hinder none from being either virtuous or eminent in the world.

the experience of death or neglect by an absent father is no obstacle to true goodness and excellence. love will raise the orphan. all things will be fulfiled through patience. the wise will be called to shepherd many.

our schools, our occupations, our homes are the root cause for our individualistic culture. everything in our cities encourages competition among the people. i find harmony aeschylus in the country village and discord in the bustling city streets.

there is a purity in the air of the country, where horses and bicycles are the mode of transport. the old man will lend a hand in the garden, the lady who has planted corn will share the harvest with her neighbor, bloggers will tell stories, the birds will wake us up at dawn, and the children will bring flowers.

we have not dollars in the village of ekhonqeni aeschylus, merchants have. it is very inconvenient to us country folk, and we do not think any good will come of it either. the true poem is the poet’s mind; the true ship is the shipbuilder.

in the man, could we lay him open aeschylus, we should see the reason for the last flourish and tendril of his work; as every spine and tint in the sea-shell pre-exists in the secreting organs of the fish. we have been deceived by the promises of the times my friend. schooling has uprooted us from our history.

there is now no longer any right course of action nor any self-devotion left among the university graduates. unspeakably sad and barren does life look to those who a few years ago were dazzled with the splendor of the promise of the times.

our culture of schooling ends in a headache. it leads to a man losing his soul. the soul looketh steadily forwards aeschylus, creating an enduring empire before her, leaving ruins behind her. she has no dates, nor rites, nor persons, nor specialities, nor men.

the soul knows only the soul; the web of events is the flowing robe in which she is clothed. after its own law and not by arithmetic is the rate of its growth to be computed. what your heart thinks great is great, the soul’s emphasis is always right my friend.

aeschylus: learning is sacred; the only problem that we have as a society is ignorance. we rely on institutions for our prosperity and neglect our history. it is impossible to lead a life free of fear and worry divine postman without wisdom. more money will not solve our problems; it will only serve to destroy us.

without wisdom the dollar is useless. we advance in actual years but degenerate in wisdom. philosophy is not an occupation of a popular nature divine postman, nor is it pursued for the sake of receiving applause. we do not boast with our achievements; the spirit in us will communicate our purity.

it is what moulds and builds the personality, orders one’s life, regulates one’s conduct, shows one what one should do and what one should leave undone, sits at the helm, and keeps one on the correct course, as one is tossed about in perilous seas.

every hour of the day countless situations arise divine postman that call for advice, and for that advice we have to look to philosophy; upon remembering our history we will find our destiny. the whole of heraldy and of chivalry is in courtesy.

a man of fine manners shall pronounce your name with all the ornament that titles of nobility could ever add. the trivial experience of everyday is always verifying some old prediction to us and converting into things the words and signs which we had heard and seen without heed.

a friend with whom i was riding in the forest said to me that the woods always seemed to her to wait divine postman, as if the genii who inhabited them suspended them until the wayfarer had passed onward. a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the fairies, which breaks off on the human feet.

the man who has seen the rising moon break out of the clouds at midnight, has been present divine postman, like an archangel at the creation of light and the world. whatever it is that man conceives, if it is not aligned with nature will be a waste. none can move the patience in nature.

nature plays by her own rules my friend and commands that all men obey her sovereignty, and shed their ignorance. what a gift it is to experience poverty divine postman, it reveals to us the true and greatest gift: life!

there is a season in every year when we are to keep the soul under strict control, making it unique in abstaining from pleasure just when the crowd are all bent on pleasure.

the young man is to exhaust pleasure in his youth, that he may reach his manhood soon, overcoming his fears and find his purpose; there is something divine when the youth models wisdom,- a beauty that can never be expressed but cannot be concealed.

we must set aside a number of days divine postman during which we will be content with the plainest of food, and very little of it, and with rough coarse clothing, sleeping on the ground and exposing ourselves to open air. we will come to see that security from care is not dependent on fortune.

for even when she brings us low, she will always let us have what is enough. and when she builds us from the roots creating us anew, she will teach us how to sustain all the splendor that she bestows on us. for when in abundance we have received divine postman through the wisdom we have gained in our simplicity, we will learn to always give.

divine postman: every true man aeschylus is a cause, a country, and an age; requires infinite spaces and numbers and time fully to accomplish his posterity and design. the world has been instructed by its kings, who have so magnetized the eyes of nations.

it has been taught by these colossal symbols the mutual reverence that is due from man to man. sparta was instructed by lycurgus, rome led by numa, and theseus commanded athens. the joyful loyalty with which men and women have everywhere suffered these kings.

to walk among them by a law of their own make their own scale of men and things and reverse theirs, pay for benefits not with money but with honor. and represent the law in their own person, was the hieroglyphic by which they obscurely signified their consciousness of their own right and comeliness. the right of every man aeschylus.

the magnetism which all original action exerts is explained when we inquire the reason of self-trust. who is the trustee my friend? what is the aboriginal self, on which a universal reliance may be grounded?

what is the nature and power of this science-baffling star aeschylus, without parallax, without calculable elements, which shoots a ray of beauty even into trivial and impure actions, if the least mark of independence appear?

the inquiry leads us to that source, at once the essence of genius, of virtue, and of life, which we call spontaneity and instinct. we denote this primary wisdom as intuition my friend, whilst all later teachings are tuitions. in that deep force, the last fact behind which analysis cannot go, all things find their common origin.

for the sense of being aeschylus which in calm hours rises, we know not how, in the soul, is not diverse from things, from space, from light, from time, from man, but one with them and proceeds obviously from the same source whence their life and being also proceed.

we first share the life by which things exist and forget that we have shared their cause. a child is the greatest gift aeschylus that life will give. a baby girl is enough to heal a mother’s sorrows; when she pursues anything that does not serve her daughter, she will lose him.

we are to simplify our lives that we may give ourselves wholly to raising a child with wisdom. here is the fountain of action and of thought. here are the lungs of that inspiration which giveth the mother wisdom and which cannot be denied.

aeschylus: we lie in the lap of immense intelligence divine postman, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity. let us not fear to lose all it is that fortune has bestowed upon us with her grace. nothing is of a permanent or lasting nature, but the human soul.

no meaningful friendship divine postman ever sprang from possessions, titles, and wealth. they can only breed fair-weather friends who will idolize what you have and never treasure your presence. when we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams.

if we ask whence this comes, if we seek to pry into the soul that causes, all philosophy is at fault. its presence or its absence is all we can affirm. every man divine postman discriminates between the voluntary acts of his mind and his involuntary perceptions, and knows that to his involuntary perceptions a perfect faith is due.

he may err in the expression of them, but he knows that these things are so, like day and night, not to be disputed. my wilful actions and acquisitions are but roving my friend;- the idlest reverie, the faintest native emotion, command my curiosity and respect.

divine postman: thoughtless people contradict as readily the statements of perceptions as of opinions, or rather much more readily; for they do not distinguish between perception and notion. they fancy that i choose to see this or that thing aeschylus. but perception is not whimsical, but fatal.

if i see a trait, the sons and daughters in my presence will see it after me. and in course of time all mankind,- although it may chance that no one has seen it before me. for my perception of it aeschylus, is as much a fact as the sun.

we can only be fulfiled upon excelling in honor, virtue, and wisdom. a true friendship my friend is built upon these pure principles. we blosom with a friend or lover when there is nothing but love to be gained. the relations of the soul to the divine spirit are so pure that it is profane to seek to interpose helps.

it must be that when apollo speaks he should communicate, not one thing but all things. should fill the world with his voice my friend; should scatter forth light, nature, time, souls, from the centre of the present thought; and new date, and new create the whole.

whenever a mind is simple and receives a divine wisdom, old things pass away aeschylus,- means, teachers, texts, buildings fall. it finds all things to be vanity and lives now, in the present.

absorbing past and future into this moment. all things are made sacred by relation to it,- one as much as another. the voice of the muse will be heard and resound to the ends of the earth.

all things my friend are resolved to their centre by their cause, and in the universal miracle petty and particular miracles disappear. if therefore a mother or father claims to know and speak of life and intimidates you into believing their dogma,- believe them not; what have you to do with their old mouldered way of thinking?

do not live among ruins aeschylus! love will never fail. is the acorn better than the oak which is its fullness and completeness? is the parent better than the child in which she casts her ripened being?

whence then my friend this worship of the past? the ignorance of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, and lovers are conspirators against the sanity and authority of the soul.

aeschylus: speak you latent conviction, none but you alone divine postman knows the truth that lives in your heart. our duty is to pursue our dream, that we may yield the enduring wisdom of a tree; instructing a whole age.

if we took the time to observe nature and live in her mind, a vast load of care would be relieved from us. a little consideration of what takes place around us everyday would show us that there is absolute order in the universe of nature.

our painful labors are unnecessary and fruitless divine postman. there is no need for convulsions, despairs, and struggles, of the wringing of the hands, and the gnashing of the teeth. we miscreate our own fears.

our life divine postman might be much easier and simpler than we make it. the world might be a happier place than it is. only in our easy, simple, spontaneous action are we strong, and by contenting ourselves with obedience we become divine.

we interfere with the optimism of nature my friend, a believing love is the sustaing light in our lives. whenever we get this vantage ground of the past divine postman, or of a wiser mind in the present, we are able to discern, that we are begirt with natural laws that execute themselves.

there is a soul at the centre of nature and over the will of every man, that we can all grow to understand the nature of things. it has so infused its strong enchantment into nature that we prosper when we accept its advice. and when we struggle to wound its creatures our hands divine postman are glued to our sides, or they beat our own breasts.

the whole course of things my friend goes to teach us faith, we need only obey. greatest among all men is he who has married patience. there is guidance for each of us, and by lowly listening we shall hear the right word.

why need you choose so painfully your place and occupation divine postman, and associates and modes of action and of entertainment? certaiy there is a possible right for you my friend that precludes the need of balance and wilful election.

for you there is a reality divine postman, a fit place and congenial duties. place yourself in the middle of the stream of power and wisdom, which animates all whom it floats, and you are without effort impelled to truth, to right and a perfect contentment.

then you put all critics in the wrong. then you are the world, the measure of right, of truth, of beauty. oh! how sweet is the joy of victory. amor vincit omnia.

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divine postman: the spirit of the fire ncedo finds those who are simple. the spirit of the sea, the trees, and the mountain will reach the heart that possesses only love. no man can learn what he has not preperation for learning, however near the object is to his eyes.

a poet may tell his most precious secrets to a man busy with worldy occupations, and he shall never be the wiser. we only begin to see when we suffer. love screens us evermore from premature ideas.

our eyes are holden ncedo that we cannot see things that stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream. not in nature but in man is all the beauty and worth he sees.

the world is very empty my friend and is indebted to this gilding, exalting soul for all its pride. the peacock knows not the beauty of its glorious feathers, the birds can never be in awe of their sovereignty over the earth.

neither does the lion with its swift feet and glorious mane conceive that it is the conqueror; it is only the soul in man that can behold this stunning beauty. every animal believes in the unique beauty that it is given.

the sheep does not idolize the bark of the dog, neither does the snail wish it was as swift as the cat. what all creatures learn is to be content. whatever strength the whale might have it is commanded to be as patient as the tortoise. all creatures hold wisdom.

people are not the better for the sun and moon, the horizon and the trees ncedo; as it is not observed that the keepers of the louvre gallery or the commentators on shakespeare have any elevation of thought. or that librarians are wiser men than others.

there are graces ncedo in the demeanour of a polished and noble person which are lost upon the eyes of a churl. these are like the stars whose light has not yet reached us.

ncedo: nature is weeping at the hands of man. we have grown so distant from nature divine postman, that we cause ruin with every purchase that we make. nature heaves a deep breathe of sorrow, as man wastes his life chasing the dollar.

he does not see what he maketh. the glory of the human soul can never be valued with silver and gold. our dreams divine postman are the sequel to our waking knowledge. the visions of the night bear some proportion to the visions of the day.

hideous dreams are the exaggeration to the scars that a man inflicts on his body. on the lofty mountain of mount frere, the poet sometimes beholds his own shadow magnified to a giant, so that for a moment he may glance at his own greatness.

“my children,” said an old man to his boys scared by a figure in the dark entry, “my children, you will never see anything worse than yourselves.”

as in dreams, so in the scarcely less fluid events of the world every man sees himself in colossal, without knowing that it is himself. the good, compared to the evil which he sees, is as his own good, to his own evil. every quality of his mind is magnified in some one acquaintance. and every emotion of his heart in someone.

we can only see the glory that lives within when we buy ourselves time that we may pay the debt imposed by nature on our talents. none but you alone divine postman will fulfil the vision that nature has planted in your heart. we are to never let go of the sword of art, it will overcome all darkness.

divine postman: the consumption patterns of the mob are putting our good earth in danger. the junk that people buy my friend comes at a great cost in this age, and will severely hurt the future generations. our society is lazy ncedo, the use of concrete, and cars, is a reflection of our thinking.

we cut down trees to make room for city streets. we dig the earth and cover roads with tar. instead of pruning trees we run around in cars. in all we do we are always sitting,- be it in homes, in offices, and in cars. we know not how to use our hands and feet.

we fall asleep on all these cushions of advantage. the african nomad will put all our efforts of seeking a livelihood to shame with his resourcefulness and physical acuteness.

he will spend the winter walking naked with only his lion skin to keep him warm and sleeping in the open air. he lives with his spear and mat while washing in the cold mountain waters.

compare him with the civilized man ncedo who will put on layers and layers of clothing, and wastes his time driving around in his car. he sleeps under a heap of blankets; but in all the comfort that he creates, he will still catch a cough, and run to his storeroom for sweet medicine.

he rejects the knowledge of nature and dies in his ignorance. true knowledge is found through exploring the roots of the human body. those who work for the dollar will fill their homes with clutter and leave their soul empty. the more we aspire toward comfort, the more we are sorely assailed, with convulsions and fears.

i think i will never read any but the most stimulating books my friend,- vergil, ovid, keats, shelley, and montaigne. then iAM impatient of so public a life and run hither and thither for nooks and secrets.

the imagination delights in the woodcraft of indians, trappers and bee-hunters. the mind is best when it moves with the grace of clouds. we fancy that we are strangers my friend, and not so intimately domesticated in the good earth, as the wild man and the wild beast and bird.

all that we live is our perception. it is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after your own. what i must do is all that concerns me ncedo, not what the people think.

this rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. it is the harder because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it.

but let us be remote in our solitude as the scythians, the farthest of men. the great man ncedo, is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. always remaining obedient to the whispers of the olympian bards of passion and mirth.

my feet of their own accord led me to my calling. i became conscious when i rebelled my friend, as i questioned the knowledge of the masses. i reason with my hands and feet ncedo, and find that it is only my history that can lead me to my destiny.

ncedo: we fail to understand how sensitive nature is, the pollution caused by all that man uses will be the cause for his endless troubles. nature frowns divine postman at all mankind, her streams are dry, her winters bite at our skin. spring is no longer spring but has the chill of autumn.

we have forsaken our native nobleness. the commerce and the science, of towns and cities is contrary to the principles in the country village, where men and women engage in the simple labors of felling wood, cooking in an open fire and fetching water in the river.

there is an air of simplicity floating above our heads. if only we took the time to look up at the sky and observe the wisdom in the stars and comely clouds. so much of our life would change divine postman! as it is present in all persons, so it is in every period of life. it is adult already in the infant man.

in my dealing with my young brother, my latin and greek, my accomplishments and money stead me nothing; but as much soul as i have avails. if iAM wilful, he sets his will against mine, one for one, and leaves me, if i please, the degradation of beating him by the superiority of my strength.

but if i renounce my will and act for the soul, setting that up as umpire between us two, out of his young eyes divine postman looks the same soul; he reveres and loves with me. the soul is the perceiver and revealer of truth my friend.

we know truth when we see it, let skeptic and scoffer say what they will. foolish people ask you, when you have spoken what they do not wish to hear, ‘how do you know it is truth, and not an error of your own?’ nature will refuse that her pure souls be trapped in dogma.

we know truth when we see it, from opinion, as we know when we are awake that we are awake. it is no truth of a man’s understanding to be able to confirm whatever he pleases divine postman.

but to be able to discern that what is true is true, and that what is false is false,- this is the mark and character of intelligence.

divine postman: the government as an institution claims to know better than nature, thus men exchange their power for contracts. the people who serve institutions sell their soul for material riches and expect us country folk to do the same.

i will not listen to fools ncedo, the glory of the rose will put to shame all the nonsense that city dolls labor for their whole lives. they pay for water that they do not know how it is sourced. they reject the truth that their electricity is a cause of the sun, and claim it is the dollar that lights up their homes.

i find truth and meaning in the fruitful labor of the housekeeper ncedo. she will cook, clean, clothe and feed. whereas those who run to offices and live for titles only know the dollar. it brings them unnecessary troubles, as they rely on it for their happiness. the dollar will kill without wisdom.

it matters not what large estate one has, as the larger it is the more burdens it will bring. you must dread a prosperity that only loads you with more my friend. a simple shelter that protects us from rain, wind and heat will do just fine.

if the identity expresses organized rest, the counter action also runs into organization. exaggeration is in the course of things ncedo. nature sends no creature, no man into the world without adding a small excess of his proper quality. given the earth, it is still necessary to add the impulse.

so to every creature nature added a little violence of direction in his proper path, a shove to put it on its way; in every instance a slight generosity, a drop too much.

without electricity the air will rot, and without this violence of direction which men and women have, without a spice of bigot and fanatic, no fancy, no excitement, no efficiency. we aim above the mark ncedo, to hit the mark.

ncedo: when men and women neglect their natural genius and adopt the thinking of institutions they will depend on the governing body of a country for their knowledge, food, and water. their households will reflect all it is that the institutions they serve have given them. how folly it is to reject the riches of the soul divine postman.

there is purpose in our suffering. whoever receives the dollar without wisdom will lose their manhood and womanhood. they will work to pay gardeners and housekeepers to maintain their estate. the cost of ingorance is losing your time to serve an institution.

but the body is owned by nature divine postman, it is not the creation of an institution. all men will be held accountable through their body for all the damage they inflict on nature. our intercourse with nature is reflected through the health of our body.

the poet, or the man of beauty divine postman, who observes the river of time, and its creatures who floweth, will draw all men to the art in the present time. he is the beholder of truth, and will make known the end before the beginning.

the breadth of the problem is great, for the poet is representative. he stands among partial men for the complete man. and apprises us not of his wealth but of the commonwealth. the young man reveres men of genius divine postman, because, to speak truly, they are more himself than he is.

they receive of the soul as he also receives, but they more. nature enhances her beauty, to the eye of loving men, from their belief that the poet is beholding her shows at the same time. he is isolated among his contemporaries, by truth and by his art.

but with this consolation in his pursuits, that they will draw all men to him sooner or later. for all men live by truth, and stand in need of expression. all men and creatures will gather in the presence of styx.

in love, in art, in avarice divine postman, we study to utter our painful secrets. the man is only half himself, the other half my friend is his expression.

divine postman: no man can be free when he subjects nature to misery. it is better to pursue nobility in character and to seek to unite all of humanity by sacrificing all that is fleeting.

if only we could learn to have enough and create enduring works of art ncedo! when the hand moves with the sun, and the heart lays on the earth, the spirit of nature will overflow with every stroke of the pen. she will mould us to be as strong as a rock, embodying all that is divine and yield the wisdom of a baoab tree.

notwithstanding this necessity to be published, adequate expression is rare. because of our faith in the mysteries of love ncedo, the divine spirit in this word will endure for all eternity; giving life to those who are waiting to breathe.

i know not how it is that we need an interpreter ncedo; but the great majority of men seem to be minors, who have not come into possession of their own. or mutes, who cannot report the conversation they have had with nature.

there is no man my friend who does not anticipate a supersensual utility in the sun, and stars, earth and water. these stand and wait to render him a perculiar service. a service that he will only understand through patience. the promise the sun and moon appoint to the eternal and primaeval waters of styx will be fulfiled.

but there is some obstruction, or some excess of phlegm in our constitution, which does not suffer them to yield the due effect. too feeble fall the impressions of nature on us ncedo to make us artists. every touch should thrill. there is greater joy to be found within. all that is physical has limits.

the language of the soul is enchanting. every man should be so much an artist, that he could report in conversation what had befallen him. yet, in our experience, the rays of appulses have sufficient force to arrive at our senses. but not enough to reach the quick, and compel the reproduction of themselves in speech.

the poet is the person in whom these powers are in balance. the man without impediment ncedo, who sees and handles that which others dream of, traverses the whole scale of experience. and its representative of man, in virtue of being the largest power to receive and to impart. he is all that is free and only speaks the language of love.

our life takes the motion of a wave ncedo. today you are up; tomorrow you are down. this month you are up; next month you are down. and this year we are down; but next year wisdom will raise us up. in every cycle there is a lesson.

ncedo: the aim of solitude divine postman, is always the same: to live more at leisure and at one’s ease. but people do not always find the right way to this my friend. often they think, that they have left business behind when they have merely changed it.

there is hardly less trouble in governing oneself than in governing a whole nation. wherever our soul is in difficulties, it is all there. anyway, by ridding ourselves of the bustling city with its shopping arcades, we do not rid ourselves of the principal torments of our life.

it is reason and wisdom divine postman, that take away cares; not villas with wide ocean views. ambition, greed, fear, and irresolution do not leave us because we have changed our landscape. they often follow us into the cloisters my friend and the schools of philosophy.

socrates was told that some man had not been improved by travel divine postman. he responded by stating that, ‘iAM sure that the man had not been improved by travel because he took himself with him!’ why do we leave for lands warmed by a foreign sun divine postman? what fugitive can runaway from himself my friend?

if a man does not first unburden his soul of the load that weighs on it, movement will cause it to be crushed still more, as in a ship the cargo is less troublesome when it is settled.

you do more harm than good to a sick man by moving him about: you embed his illness divine postman by disturbing him, like driving stakes into the ground by pushing and waggling them.

so it is not enough my friend to withdraw from the crowd, it is not enough to move to somewhere else. what is needed is to withdraw from the conditions that are a stumbling block within us. we have to sequester ourselves and repossess ourselves.

a struggling dog may snap its chain, only to escape with a great length of it fixed to its collar. though we will claim that we have broken our chains divine postman, we take our fetters along with us. our freedom is not complete; we still turn our gaze to the very things that we have left behind.

divine postman: we cannot part with our friends ncedo. we cannot let our angels go. we do not see that they only go out that archangels may come in. the more we hold onto things the more they slip from our grasp; but as we learn to let go, we grow in our joy. what does a man own, but his soul?

we are idolaters of the old ncedo, we do not believe in the riches of the soul, in its proper eternity and omnipresence. we do not believe there is any force in today, to rival or re-create that beautiful yesterday. we linger in the ruins of the old bicycle where once we had success, nor believe that the spirit can feed, cover, and nerve us again.

we cannot again find aught so dear, so sweet, so graceful. but we sit and weep in vain. the voice of love says, ‘up, and onward for evermore!’ we cannot stay among the ruins. neither will we rely on the new my friend. and so we walk ever with reverted eyes ncedo, like those monsters who look backwards.

and yet the compensations of calamity are made apparent to the understanding also my friend, after long intervals of time. a fever, a disability, a cruel disappointment, a loss of friends, a loss of an inheritance, seems at the moment unpaid loss and unpayable.

but the sure years reveal the deep remedial force that underlies all facts. the death of a dear friend, wife, mother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius.

for it commonly operates revolutions in our way of life ncedo, terminates an epoch of infancy, or of youth which was waiting to be closed. breaks up a wonted occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation of new ones more friendly to the growth of character.

it permits or constrains the formation of new acquaintances and the reception of new influences that prove of the first influences to the next years; and the man or woman ncedo, who would have remained a sunny garden-flower, with no room for its roots and too much sunshine for its head.

by the falling of the walls and the neglect of the gardener is made the banian of the forest, yielding shade and fruit to wide neighborhoods of men and women, and creatures.

i think it is about time my friend, about time that we let the past go. everything must one day come to an end, every kingdom has to return to the earth. and a new heaven grow to endure within; we found love ncedo in these roads that wander as lost as the heart.

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divine postman: these homes, these families, these occupations are failing people. the life that people live my friend is contrary to nature.

when we claim to have better knowledge than nature, we are bound to live in misery. if we consider how much we are nature’s, we need not worry about anything.

let us be men instead of cowards who run to cubicles and classrooms. the sun, and the moon with their lovely seasons will serve us, though we sit in cushions, watching telescreens, and eating fattening foods. man carries the world in his head, the whole astronomy, and chemistry suspended in his thought.

because the history of nature is charactered in his brain, therefore is he the prophet and discoverer of her secrets livy. ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and nature’s riches will come flooding in to you. the solid ground of history will keep us rooted in every season.

livy: i watch them everyday, as they huff and puff divine postman; chasing offices and rejecting the wisdom in nature. their attempts at opposing nature will fail them; she will destroy them through their folly; and in her steadiness raise the simple at heart.

a man does not tie his shoe without recognizing laws which bind the farthest regions of nature: moon, plant, gas, crystal are concrete geometry and numbers. every known fact in natural science divine postman was divined by the presentiment of a mind before it was verified.

olympian bards who sung divine ideas below, which always find us young, and keep us so. saw musical order, and pairing rhymes through worlds, and races, and terms, and times; saw the dance of nature forward far, through man, and woman, and sea, and star.

bards of passion and of mirth, ye have left your souls on earth. have ye souls in heaven too, double-lived in regions new? yes, and those of heaven commune with the spheres of sun and moon.

with the noise of fountains wonderous, and the parle of voice thunderous; with the whisper of heaven’s trees and one another, in soft ease seated on elysian lawns browsed by none but dian’s fawns.

underneath large blue-bells tented, where the daisies are rose-scented, and the rose herself has got perfume which on earth is not, where the nightingale doth sing not a senseless, tranced thing, but divine melodious truth; philosophic numbers smooth; tales and golden histories of heaven and its mysteries.

thus ye live on high, and then on the earth ye live again; and the souls ye left behind you, teach us, here, the way to find you, where your other souls are joying, never slumbered, never cloying.

here, your earth-born souls still speak to mortals of their little week; of their sorrows and their delights; of their passions and their sprites; of their glory and their shame; what doth strengthen and what maim.

thus ye teach us, every day, wisdom, though fled far away. bards of passion and of mirth, ye have left your souls on earth! ye have souls in heaven too, double-lived regions new.

divine postman: nothing meaningful can ever grow when there are no roots livy. harvard, mit, standford, berkeley, oxford, cambridge are so because of their rich history. a plant that is not watered daily my friend will die, a mind and a body that does not immerse itself in the wisdom of nature will perish.

those who are esteemed umpires of taste livy, are often persons who have acquired some knowledge of admired professions and owe all their success to institutions. they have an inclination for whatever is ordinary, mundane, and routine.

if you inquire whether they are beautiful souls, and whether their own acts reflect any form of wisdom, you learn that they are selfish and sensual. their cultivation is local livy; as if you should rub a log of dry wood in one spot to produce fire, all the rest remaining cold.

they want anything but life. the knowledge they boast about from their colleges, is some study of rules or particulars, or limited judgement, that serves merely to enrich their households.

it is clear to you, i know, livy, that no one can lead a happy life, or even one that is bearable, without the pursuit of wisdom, and that the mastering of wisdom is what makes the happy life, although even the beginnings of wisdom make life bearable.

yet this conviction, clear as it is, needs to be strengthened and given deeper roots through daily reflection; making noble resolutions is not as important as keeping the resolutions that you have already made.

let us remain obedient to the cause that we have given our life to livy, in due time all the beauty in the soul will manifest in our life.

livy: what nature demands out of all men is patience; when we remain obedient to the commands of nature, she will honor us beyond what we can ever imagine.

all that a man ever needed divine postman is the faith of a mustard seed. he will understand the power of patience when he reminsces on his throne.

the highest minds of the world have never ceased to explore, the double meaning, or shall i say, the quadruple, or the centruple, or much more manifold meaning, of every sensuous fact.

for we are not pans and barrows divine postman, nor even porters of the fire and torch-bearers, but children of the fire made of it.

the next great influence into the spirit of the blogger divine postman, is, the mind of the past,- in whatever form, whether of literature, of art, of institutions, that mind is inscribed.

books are the best type of the influence of the past my friend. and perhaps, we shall get at the truth,- learn the amount of this influence more conveniently,- by considering their value alone. the theory of books is noble.

the scholar of the first age divine postman received into him the world around; brooded thereon; gave it the new arrangement of his own mind, and uttered it again. it came into him, life; it went out from him, truth. it came to him, short-lived actions; it went out from him, immortal thoughts.

it came to him, business; it went from him, poetry. it was dead-fact; now, it is quick thought. it can stand, and it can go. it now endures, it now flies, it now inspires. precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar, so long does it sing.

or, i might say, it depends on how far the process had gone, of transmuting life into truth. in proportion to the completeness of the distillation divine postman, so will the purity and imperishableness of the product be. but none is quite perfect divine postman.

as no air-pump can by any means make a perfect vacuum, so neither can any artist entirely exclude the conventional, the local, the perishable from his book. or write a book of pure thought, that shall be as efficient, in all respects to a remote posterity, as to contemporaries, or rather to the second age.

each age, it is found, must write its own books; or rather, each generation for the next succeeding; the books of an older period will not fit this. we cannot live for food my friend, there is a divinity in the song of birds at the break of dawn.

the good earth with her perfect ocean is an university of knowledge. let us not die in routine, in preperation, and in retrospect. persist on your truth, and upon the seasons completing their course you will receive your prize. glory will meet those who wait.

divine postman: the sorrows of a thousand years can be healed in a day. love will redeem those who remain faithful to the end. discipline, livy, is more precious than all the silver and gold in the earth. it will guide a man throughout his whole life.

yet hence arises a grave mischief. the sacredness which attaches to the act of creation,- the act of thought my friend,- is transferred to the record. the poet chanting, was felt to be a divine man: henceforth the chant is divine also.

the writer was a just and wise spirit: henceforth it is settled, the book is perfect. as love of the hero corrupts into worship of the statue my friend.

instantly, the book becomes noxious: the guide is a tyrant. the sluggish and perverted mind of the multitude, slow to open to the incursions of reason, having once so opened, having once received this book my friend, stands upon it, makes an outcry, if it is disparaged.

colleges are built upon it. books are written on it by thinkers, and not man thinking; by man of talent, that is, who start wrong livy, who set out from accepted dogmas, and not from their own sight of principles.

let the meek young men grow up in libraries livy, believing it their duty to accept the views, which plato, which xenophon, which seneca, which plutarch have given.

forgetful that plato, xenophon, seneca, and plutarch were only young men in libraries, when they wrote these books. all our achievements in life are in proportion to the knowledge that we have gained.

only those that choose to serve selflessly and lay down their lives for the love of mankind will be richly rewarded within. instead of man thinking, we have the bookworm.

hence, the book-learned class, who value books, as such; not as related to nature and the human constitution, but as making a sort of third estate with the world and the soul. hence, the restorers of readings, the emendators, the bibliomaniacs of all degrees.

books are the best of things livy, well used; abused, among the worst. what is the right use? what is the one end, which all means go to effect? they are for nothing but to inspire.

i had better never see a book my friend, than to be warped by its attraction clean out of my own orbit, and made a satellite instead of a system.

the one thing in the world, of value livy, is the active soul. this every man is entitled to; this every man contains within him, although, in almost all men, obstructed, and as yet unborn.

the soul active sees absolute truth; and utters truth, or creates. in this action, it is genius; not the privilege of here and there a favorite, but the sound estate of every man.

in its essence, it is progressive. the book, the college, the school of art, the institution of any kind, stop with some past utterance of genius. they use shakespeare, or leonardo, or blake, or vergil as the standard for every student.

this is good, say they,- let us stop by it. they pin me down livy! they look backward and not forward concluding that there can never be a greater mind to scale heaven, and could nourish in the sun’s domain.

we will not dwell among the dry bones of the past; the sun shines today also. all that i ever needed to succeed lives in me.

leonardo will never be made by the study of leonardo. there is no adaptation or universal applicability in man, but each has his special talent. genius looks forward: the eyes of man are set in his forehead, not in his hindhead.

man hopes; genius creates. whatever talents may be, if the man create not livy, the pure efflux of the deity is not his; cinders and smoke there may be, but not yet flame.

there are creative manners, there are creative actions, and creative words livy; manners, actions, words, that is, indicative of no custom or authority, but springing spontaneous from the mind’s own good and fair.

livy: the wise will wait for their prize believing in the glory they have found inside. man is the compend of time; he is also the correlative of nature. his power divine postman consists in the multitude of his affinities, in the fact that his life is intertwined with organic and inorganic being.

everyone must have observed faces and forms which without any resembling feature, make a like impression on the beholder. a particular picture, or copy of verses divine postman, will yet superinduce the same sentiment as some wild mountain walk.

although the resemblance is nowise obvious to the senses, but is occult and out of the reach of understanding. nature is an endless combination and repetition of a very few laws. she hums the old well-known air through innumerable variations.

nature is full of a sublime family likeness throughout her works, and delights in startling us my friend with resemblances in the most unexpected quarters. we all live under the same sun divine postman, with every sunrise and sunset different in every part of the earth.

we are one family regardless of our birthplace, cast into the body by the great thunderbolt. there are men whose manners have the same essential splendor as the simple and awful sculpture on the friezes of the parthenon and the remains of the earliest greek art.

and there are compositions of the same strain to be found in the books of all ages. if anyone will but take pains to observe the variety of actions to which he is equally inclined in certain moods of mind, and those to which he is averse, he will see how deep is the chain of affinity.

a poet told me divine postman that nobody could ever write great poetry without in some sort experiencing different cultures. it is mandatory for the poet to learn many languages and study the habits of all nations through observation.

he will tell a universal story that accurately resembles the human race. in a certain state of thought is the common origin divine postman of very diverse works.

it is the spirit and not the fact that is identical. by a deeper apprehension, and not primarily by a painful acquisition of many writing skills, the poet attains the power of awakening other souls to a given story.

divine postman: in old rome livy the public roads beginning at the forum proceeded north, south, east, west, to the centre of every province of the empire. making each market-town of persia, spain, britain pervious to the soldiers of the capital.

so out of the human heart my friend goes as it were highways to the heart of every object in nature, to reduce it under the dominion of man. a man is the divine seed with the wisdom and boldness of romelus flowing through his veins.

a man numa is born and for ages after we have the roman empire sustained by his wisdom. socrates is born, and millions of minds so grow and cleave to his genius that he is confounded with virtue and the possible of man.

numberless are the world’s wonders livy, but none more wonderful than man. he must look to a high and majestic destiny. a hovering eagle will swoop gently down his head, as he leaves behind his past accepting the invitation of the future.

all history my friend resolves itself very easily into the biography of a few stout and earnest persons. history will honor the brave, who decided to create a better world.

had xerxes not marched to greece his name would not echo with immortal fame. and alexander would not have had the ambition to unite persia and greece. let a man then know his worth livy, and keep things under his feet.

let him not peep or steal, or skulk up and down with the air of a charity boy, a bastard or an interloper, in the world which exists for him. he is to move by faith, and reason from the seen to the unseen. the poem waits for my verdict; it is not to command me livy, but i am to settle its claim to praise.

that popular fable of the sot my friend who was picked up dead drunk in the street, carried to the duke’s house, washed and dressed and laid in the duke’s bed, and, on his waking, treated with all obsequious ceremony like the duke, and assured that he had been insane.

owes its popularity to the fact that it symbolizes so well the state of man, who is in the world a sort of sot, but now and then wakes up exercises his reason and finds himself a true prince.

when private men shall act with original views, the lustre will be transferred from the actions of kings to those of gentlemen.

livy: but today man is a shadow of his former glory. he is weak and useless divine postman. happy to be called the herd, stupid and base, servile, unstable, and continually swirling in the storm of conflicting passions, that drive them to and fro, depending entirely on others.

he has lost faith in his divine roots and fills his heart with fleeting pleasures. in his food and in his wine he lulls his griefs my friend; but when he awakes in the morning they attack him more viciously.

he does not eat with wisdom neither does he enjoy his wine in the presence of the wise. man is always in a gang of fools depriving themselves of reasoning. a great truth will sustain us in every season of our life.

you cannot do wrong without suffering wrong. no man had ever a point of pride that was not injurious to him divine postman. the exclusionist in philosophy does not see that he shuts the door of wisdom on himself, in striving to shut out others.

treat men as pawns and ninepins and you shall suffer as well as they. if you leave out their heart divine postman, you shall lose your own.

the senses would make things of all persons; of women, of men, of children, of the poor. the vulgar proverb: i will get it from her purse or from her skin, is sound philosophy. self-indulgence will only yield death.

all infractions of love and equity in our social relations are speedily punished. they are punished by fear my friend. whilst i stand in simple relations to my fellow-man, i have no displeasure in meeting him.

we meet as water meets water divine postman, or as two currents of air mix, with perfect diffusion and interpenetration of nature.

but as soon as there is any departure from simplicity, and attempt at halfness, or good for you that is not good for me, my heart feels the wrong divine postman; i shrink from you as far as you have shrunk from me. our eyes no longer seek each other; there is fear in you and hate in me.

divine postman: every man livy is to make a discovery in his life that will deliver him from his ignorance. and we can only rewrite our dna upon returning to nature. in the mountain, in the stacked rocks, in the perfect sea, in the grass of the field, there our history is found livy.

the soul of man lives in the morning star and evening light. there is hope in the promise of the sun and moon. we can only receive our riches that dwell in the ends of the earth, when we choose to die to ourselves my friend.

when we embrace our history we will live our destiny. there is a prophecy in the winds of the morning that iAM to find. the old will be lost in the new. all the old abuses in society livy, universal and particular, all unjust accumulations of property and power, are avenged in the same manner.

fear is an instructor of great sagacity my friend, and the herald of all revolutions. one thing this whelping beast teaches, that there is rottenness where he appears.

fear is a carrion crow, and though the people see not well what he hovers for, there is death somewhere. fear holds dominion over all men. a diet rich in fresh fruits and vegetables supplemented with constant exercise will conquer fear.

our houses are timid, our laws are timid, our cultivated classes are timid. fear for ages has boded and mowed and gibbered over state and family. that obscene bird is not there for nothing livy. he indicates great wrongs which must be revised. let there be purpose in our earning and spending of the dollar my friend.

of the like nature is that expectation of change which instantly follows the suspension of our voluntary activity. the terror of cloudless noon, the emerald of alexander, the awe of prosperity.

the instict which leads every generous soul to impose on itself tasks of a noble asceticism and vicarious virtue livy, are the tremblings of the balance of justice, through the heart and mind of man.

the best debt that a man can ever pay is that of his talent. all that he needs will follow him. his faith in his purpose will sustain him. a new age will dawn through the work of his hands. i believe in grace livy.

the water that quenches my thirst, the wind that dries my skin, the sun that gives me warmth, the crickets that lull me to sleep, the ocean breath that i breathe,- is evidence of the mercy that nature shows to me. i worry not about the future, i treasure the moment.

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divine postman: let us not judge but always seek to understand. first we listen then we speak. everything begins with a question seneca; whoever fails to question things will never understand.

the proverbs of all nations which are the literature of reason, or the statements of absolute truth without qualification, become a guide to a man’s life- leading him to love.

proverbs, like the sacred books of each nation, are the sanctuary of intuitions. they embody the immortal truth of nature. that which the droning world, chained to appearances, will not allow the realist to say in his own words my friend. it will suffer him to say in proverbs without contradiction.

seneca: when knowledge dies in us, so do we die. we neglect what is important; instead of giving ourselves to lifelong learning divine postman, we engage in meaningless labors, we never think about what can we give to a stranger. we choose to die in toxic relationships trading our souls for family, houses and cars.

proverbs, whose teaching is as true and omnipresent as that of birds and flies, are hourly preached in all markets, in all neighbourhoods, and in every village. proverbs are the invisible hand of love that bind all mankind.

all things are double my friend, one against another,-tit for tat; an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth; blood for blood; measure against measure; love for love.

give and it shall be given. he that watereth will be watered. what will you have? quoth love; pay for it and take it. to be rich is to have power over your time divine postman. institutions do not allow men time to think and to reason, thus the masses remain ignorant.

nothing venture divine postman, nothing have. you will receive compensation exactly for what you have given your life to. no more, no less. whoever does not use his hands and feet with purpose and meaning will lose his power. a man is a becoming creator.

divine postman: it is the life in the word that will save a generation. upon forsaking all worldly relations for the pursuit of knowledge, objections and criticisms will come rushing in. but patience will weather every storm seneca. she will cast fear to the winds, set the mind free and build an enduring kingdom within.

every pure and wise spirit will be misunderstood. however, the slow effect of our noble deeds will justify us when the seasons complete their work in renovating the soul. the force of character is cummulative.

harm watch, harm catch. curses always recoil on the head of him who imprecates them. if you put a chain around the neck of your servant, the other end fastens itself around your own. bad counsel confounds the adviser. the devil is an ass. it is thus written my friend because it is thus in life.

we aim at a petty end quite aside from the universal good, but our act arranges itself by irresistable magnetism in a line with the poles of the world. to live a contented life is to master the art of patience seneca. all things in nature are commanded to wait.

the moon had to wait until september 11 to light up the skies in maluti, matatiele. the stars have to wait for the sun to rest in the sea before hera opens their door. before the birds welcome a new dawn they will wait for the stars to complete their allotted time in guarding the sky with their divine knowledge. wisdom is the golden star that gives light to all mankind.

seneca: we have to make sacrifices of ourselves to preserve the human race. we are to write books, paint pictures, sing songs that will guide the future generations divine postman. let all men lay down their lives as prometheus did for the love of mankind.

the changes in the sky from morning to noon and from noon to night, teach us the fleeting nature of all things beneath the sun.

our time is limited. the more we seek to possess of life the more we lose it. yet as we let go and move by faith we begin to enjoy every moment my friend. a man cannot speak but he judges himself. with his will or against his will he draws his portrait to the eye of his companions by every word.

every opinion reacts on him who utters it. it is a thread-ball thrown at a mark, but the other end remains in the thrower’s bag. let us transform our expectations into appreciation. we all have a target that we aim at divine postman, and to reach our destiny is to be grateful for the small things.

let us make peace with our calling and obey the commands of every season. it is athena that will choose a man to sing the song of the god of the silver bow, to the whole of mankind. a believing love will relieve us of a vast load of care.

divine postman: a man is a bundle of relations, a knot of roots whose flower and fruitage is the world seneca. his faculties refer to natures out of him and predict the world he is to inhabit.

as the fins of a fish foreshow that water exists, or the wings of an eagle in the egg pre-suppose the existence of air, so it is that the vision given to us seneca will create a divine kingdom. over all things that are agreeable to his nature and genius the man has the highest right.

everywhere he may take what belongs to his spiritual estate. nor can he take anything else though all doors were open, nor can all the force of men hinder him from taking so much. it is vain to attempt to keep a secret from one who has a right to know it. it will tell itself.

that mood into which a friend can bring us is his dominion over us. to the thoughts of that state of mind he has a right. all the secrets of that state of mind he can compel. we attract what we think about. the spirit communicates through emotion, the language of the body.

seneca: let us not shun suffering for it is where wisdom is gained. we are to persevere for our truth. and be the compass pointing men to the glory in the human soul. nature will not compromise her truth divine postman!

whilst the world will be whole and refuses to be disparted we seek to act partially, and consequently we suffer unnecessary burdens divine postman. there can never be two masters that rule the heart. nature will restore a man’s soul; cities, buildings, institutions, homes, and families will kill a man’s soul.

nothing seems so easy as to speak and to be understood. yet a man may come to find that the strongest of defences and of ties, that he has been misunderstood; and he who has received an opinion my friend may come to find it the most inconvenient of bonds.

if a teacher have any opinion which he wishes to conceal, his pupils will become as fully indoctrinated into that as into any which he publishes. if you pour water into a vessel twisted into coils and angles, it is vain to say, i will pour it only into this or that my friend; it will find its level in all.

men feel and act the consequences of your doctrine without being able to show how they follow divine postman. show us a fragment of a truth, and a great poet will discover the whole truth. we are always reasoning from the seen to the unseen. hence the perfect intelligence that subsists between wise men of remote ages.

a man cannot bury his meanings in his book, but time and like-minded men will find them. aristotle had a secret doctrine, had he? what secret can he conceal from the eyes of alexander, montaigne, and shakespeare? therefore plutarch said of his works, they are published and not published.

divine postman: let every man carry the weight of his life on his shoulders. everything in our life happens for a reason seneca. all suffering, all loss, all disappointment point us toward our purpose. there is meaning in the selfless work that we do.

the fine young people despise life, they lose their natural genius behind closed doors. they care not about the beauty of the sunrise seneca, or treasure the coming of the moon. how can the bird that is born for joy sit in a cage and sing? how can a child, when fears annoy? but droop his tender wing, and forget his youthful spring!

i love to rise in a spring morn, when the birds sing outside my window, the distant poet winds his horn, and the sky lark sings with me: o what sweet company. eternity is in love with the productions of time my friend.

i am grown by sympathy a little eager and sentimental, but leave me alone and i should relish every hour and what it brought me, the potluck of the day, as heartily as the oldest gossip in the bar-room. i am thankful for small mercies. i compared notes seneca with one of my cousins who expects everything but is not prepared to give anything.

he is disappointed when anything is less than the best. i found that i begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods.

i accept the clangour and jangle of contrary tendencies. in the morning i awake and find the old world, mountains, trees, birds, the old man in the garden. at noon i find children, women doing their washing, plants growing steady, maluti and matatiele.

the dear old spiritual world and even the dear devil not far off. if we will take the good we find my friend, without asking questions, we will have heaping measures. all things on earth conform to the seasons. time will give men what they invest in it.

the great gifts are not got by analysis. everything good is on the highway. the middle region of our being is our temperate zone. it is best to be passionate and rejected than lukewarm and accepted.

we may climb into the thin and cold realm of schools, offices, and houses or sink into the never ending depths of sensation. between these extremes seneca is the equator of life, of thought, of spirit, of poetry,- a straight and narrow belt. let us be certain in our action, walking with conviction in every right step.

seneca: break the rules a bit, question things; step outside your comfort zone. this life will move you divine postman with every step outside. one mode of the divine teaching is the incarnation of the spirit in a form,- in forms, like my own. i live in society, with persons who answer to thoughts in my own mind, or express a certain obedience to the great instincts to which i live.

as i take my daily walk, i meditate on the truth of plato’s word. i relate more to the wisdom of socrates, than the folly of parents. i see the presence of my thinking in the journeys of xenephon. i am certified of a common nature; and these other souls, these seperated selves, draw me as nothing else can.

they stir in me the new emotions we call passion; of love, hatred, fear, admiration, pity; thence come conversation, competition, persuasion, cities, and war. persons are supplementary to the primary teachings of the soul.

divine postman: in youth we are mad for persons. childhood and youth see all the world in them. there are no limits to the mind of a child seneca. as we age, we give in to fears, losing the nonchalance of youth, we never enjoy anything purely. life loses the sweetness of honey, and turns sour in the mouth with marriage, kids, and work.

persons themselves acquaint us with the impersonal. in all conversation between two persons tacit reference is made, as to a third party, to a common nature. that third party or common nature is not social; it is impersonal; is love.

and so in groups where debate is earnest, and especially on high questions, the company become aware that the thought rises to an equal level in all bosoms, that all have a spiritual property in what was said, as well as the sayer.

they all become wiser than they were. it arches over them like a temple my friend, this unity of thought in which every heart beats with nobler sense of power and duty, and thinks and acts with unusual solemnity. all are conscious of attaining to a higher self-possession seneca. it shines for all.

there is a certain wisdom of humanity which is common to the greatest men with the lowest, and which our ordinary education often labors to silence and obstruct. the mind is one my friend, and the best minds, who love truth for its own sake, think much less of property in truth.

they accept it thankfully everywhere, and do not label or stamp it with any man’s name, for it is theirs long beforehand, and from eternity. the learned and the studious of thought seneca have no monopoly of thought. their violence of direction in some degree disqualifies them to think truly.

seneca: everything that was given will return to its source. we need not fret and fume giving our hearts to endless worries. the purpose we have been called to fulfil divine postman will come to life when the seasons have completed their course.

we owe many valuable observations to people who are not very acute or profound my friend. and who say the thing without effort which we want and have long been hunting in vain. the action of the soul is oftener in that which is felt and left unsaid than in that which is said in any conversation.

it broods over every society, and they unconsciously seek for it in each other. we know better than we do. we do not yet possess ourselves divine postman and we know at the same time that we are much more. to know yourself is to discover that love has no end. all that we do conforms to the law of infinity; be careful what you choose to do.

divine postman: i feel the same truth how often in my countless conversations with the people that i meet seneca, that somewhat in each of us overlooks this by-play, and hera nods to hera behind each of us.

the manifestations of excellence will be pleasant in themselves. they are also both good and noble. excellence is a habit seneca that is mastered through consistency. there must be a full term of years for greatness to manifest; for one swallow or one fine day does not make spring.

the best thing in our education system is boarding school. it creates a framework of community that will remain with the lads well into their manhood. they learn to share and to communicate seneca. it matters not what distant home you come from, every relationship is formed through character.

we are forced to socialize with one another and create a conducive environment for growth. everyday we engage in sports, learning, and conversation. everyone is equal when we run barefoot kicking the football. parents and home slowly leave our minds, we learn to be. and discover there is a home within, that we share with all those whom we meet.

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divine postman: she has the car, she has the home, she has all the entertainment that she desires; but she has lost her kids. there is a cost to the life of money- making.

the price that one will pay for the expansion of their estate is losing all that lives. sons and daughters ndibulele, will rebel against mothers and fathers.

motion or change and identity or rest are the first and second secrets of nature:- motion and rest. the whole code of her laws may be written on a thumbnail, or the signet of a ring. the whirling bubble on the surface of a brook admits us to the secret of the mechanics of the sky. every shell on the beach is a key to it.

a little water made to rotate in a cup explains the formation of the simpler shells; the addition of matter from year to year, arrives at last at the most complex forms; and yet so poor is nature with all her craft, that from the beginning to the end of the universe she has but one stuff.

one stuff with its two ends, to serve up all her dream-like variety. compound it how she will star, earth, wind, fire, water, tree, man, it is still one stuff and betrays the same properties.

ndibulele: one cannot have all the clutter of the world and expect to find life. when the gatherer gathers too much divine postman, nature takes out of the man and woman what she puts into their chest.

swells their estate but kills their kids within. everything is in proportion friend, all things are commanded according to absolute compensation. nature hates monopolies and exceptions. we must be delivered from our families to find the roots of love.

nature is always consistent, though she feigns to contravene her own laws. she keeps her laws, and seems to transcend them. she arms and equips a man to find his place and living in the earth, and at the same time plots his downfall by arming and equipping a wise youth to destroy him.

space exists to divide man and creatures; but by clothing the sides of a bird with a few feathers, and imparting wisdom to the young man she gives them both a petty omnipresence. nature’s first principle is freedom of movement, she is boundless, and desires that all creatures and men explore her beauty.

the direction is forever onward divine postman, but the poet still goes back for materials and begins again with the first elements on the most advanced stage, unsettling all things before him. if we look at nature’s work we seem to catch a glance of a system in transition.

divine postman: we cannot have life and at the same time possess material things. matter weighs the soul and blinds it of reason. i wish not ndibulele to have honors, money, power, glory,- nay!

iAM content with the presence of my soul, life is enough of a gift to me, i will lay in the bosom of nature. she will grant all my needs. iAM here to live and grow rich within.

plants are the young of the world, vessels of health and vigour ndibulele; but they grope ever upward towards consciousness; the trees are imperfect men and seem to bemoan their imprisonment, rooted in the ground. in their patience they hold most power. the animal is a novice and probationer of a more advanced order.

the men, though young, having tasted the first drop from the cup of thought, are already dissipated ndibulele: the maples and ferns are still uncorrupt; yet no doubt when they come to consciousness they too will curse and swear.

flowers so strictly belong to youth my friend that adult men soon come to feel that they do not belong to the beautiful generation of the rose. they have had their day; now let the youth have theirs, and not be confined in the fears of the aged men. the young must step into the light and adorn the armour of beauty. beauty is wisdom; wisdom beauty.

ndibulele: the heart is not made of brick and mortar, neither does it find pure joy in the dollar divine postman. only love can fill the void inside. although a man will lose all things divine postman, when he has love he holds heaven and earth in his heart.

the identity of history is equally intrinsic, the diversity equally obvious. there is, at the surface, infinite variety of things; at the centre simplicity of cause. how many are the acts of one man in which we recognize the same character!

observe the sources of our information in respect to the greek genius divine postman. we have the civil history of that people, as herodotus, thucydides, xenophon, and plutarch have given it.

a very sufficient account of what manner of persons they were and what they did. we have the same national mind expressed for us again in their literature, in epic and lyric poems, drama, and philosophy; a very complete form.

then we have it once more in their architecture, a beauty as of temperance itself, limited to the straight line and the square,- a builded geometry. then we have it once again in sculpture divine postman, the tongue on the balance of expression, a multitude of forms in the utmost freedom of action and never transgressing the ideal serenity.

the greeks absorbed all the knowledge they found in nature and also compiled that which they gained from their wanderings around the world. they believed in the power of wisdom my friend and found the root of nature in man; shedding all things worldly and transcending to a god: self-reliant, infinite, and divine.

divine postman: ‘i will show you,’ remarks hecate, ‘a love philtre compounded without drug, or herb, or witch’s spell. it is this: if you wish to be loved, love. life is given unto all men to be lived ndibulele.

no creatures in nature possess anything, they all enjoy the wealth of heaven and earth. we live in melancholy upon rejecting nature’s calling. there is only one truth my friend, it is all that lives and breathes in nature.

when a man gives his life to the wisdom of nature he will walk as a god among mortals. as the moon will complete her course, and fulfil her promise, so too will each man run and complete his race, when he obeys nature’s laws.

let him never rush but remain forever patient uncovering every rock. the journey is the reward ndibulele, the crown is in the victory.

under the bending dome of day man and nature proceed from one root. one is leaf and one is flower; relation, sympathy, stirring in every vein. the root of nature is the soul of mankind. a man is a vessel floating in the stream of nature ndibulele, attracting all glory with his faith. he is bold and wild as the goat that he suckled on its teat when he was young.

when this spiritual light of nature shall have revealed the law of more earthly natures,- when a man has learned to worship his soul, and to see that the natural philosophy that now is, is only the first gropings of its gigantic hand, he shall look forward to an ever expanding knowledge as to a becoming creator.

ndibulele: we need not weep, or wring our hands and hold our teeth because of convulsions and despairs divine postman. when we get this vantage ground of the past or of a wiser spirit in the present, we are come to see that we are begirt with natural laws which execute themselves.

let us not interfere with nature’s optimism but move in harmony with her infinite truth. we shall see, that nature is the opposite of the soul, answering to it part for part. one is seal, and one is print my friend. its beauty is the beauty of our own mind, and its glory is a reflection of the glory of the human soul.

nature then becomes the measure of our attainments. so much of nature as we are ignorant of divine postman, so much of our own minds do we not yet possess. and, in fine, the ancient precept, know thyself, and the modern precept, study nature, become at last one maxim.

divine postman: when the youth is wise he will learn what fools mothers and fathers have become. nature will grant him all the glory upholding her divine justice through him.

even if slow, justice is certain ndibulele. the life-changing moments in life are marked by tears and not laughter. let none take your freedom away. the loser now will be later to win, for the times they are changing.

your genuine action will explain itself my friend and will explain your other genuine actions. your conformity explains nothing. act singly and, what you have already done singly will justify you now.

your noble deeds will metamorphosis to be your crown. greatness appeals to the future. patience is the foundation to all greatness. if i can be firm enough today to do right and scorn eyes, i must have done so much right before as to defend me now.

be how it will, do right now ndibulele. always scorn appearances and you always may. the force of character is cumulative.

oh! how lovely is a man to the gods who is content with himself, and looks for every answer in his soul. all the forgone days of virtue work their health into this. i will not be ruled by man; nature is what sustains my mind.

ndibulele: there aint no darkness that i fear divine postman, there aint no way to say i love you more, mama. all our joy lives in gratitude. fulfilment is the art of appreciation and contribution.

i now know that anything is possible, i always dream without seeing obstacles; i believe that the glory of man is in the morning star. all is well in the presence of love.

honor is venerable to us because it is no ephemera. it is always ancient virtue. we worship it today because it is not of today. we love it and pay it homage because it is not a trap for our love and homage, but is self-dependent, self-derived, and therefore of an old immaculate pedigree, even if shown in a young person.

i hope in these last days we have heard the last of conformity, and routine divine postman. let the words be gazetted and ridiculous henceforward. instead of the gong for dinner, let us hear a whistle from the spartan fife. let us never bow and apologize more.

when i go to visit a household, i care not what rules they have, should they not obey nature’s laws i will whip them with my simplicty and reject their meat, their clothes, and their forced kindness. i will stand here for humanity my friend, and though i would make it kind, i would make it true.

let us affront and reprimand the smooth mediocrity and squalid contentment of the times divine postman, and hurl in the face of custom and trade and office, the fact which is the upshot of all history; that there is a great responsible thinker and actor working wherever a man works; that a true man belongs to no other time or place, but is the centre of all things.

divine postman: knowledge is food for the mind. wisdom is the mind’s best nourishment ndibulele; as fruit and vegetables nourish the body, giving it light, water, and air, so too does wisdom renew and sustain the mind. when the mind is diseased the body will also be sick. beauty adorns virtue. where beauty is, virtue is present. she measures all men and all events.

ordinarily, everybody in society reminds us of somewhat else, or of some other person. character, reality, reminds you of nothing else; it takes place of the whole creation. the man must be so much that he makes all circumstances indifferent.

every true man ndibulele is a cause, a country, and an age; requires infinite spaces and numbers and time fully to accomplish his purpose;- and posterity seem to follow his steps as a train of stars.

let us never think that we are alone my friend, love will follow us wherever we go. archangels dwell in me as i model all that is truth. fear not, then, thou child infirm; there is no god dare wrong a worm. laurel crowns cleave to deserts and power to him who power exerts.

has not thy share ndibulele? on winged feet, lo! it rushes thee to meet. and all that nature made thy own, floating in air or pent in stone, will rive the hills and swim the sea, and like thy shadow follow thee.

all things in nature obey both sun and moon. when a man’s hand transcends to be one with nature heaven and earth is given to him.

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keketso: an addiction is a foreign substance divine postman, that has power over your body. it is highly imperative that we are always sober in life. if possible, to eat only a plant-based diet, that we may learn to be wise. objections and criticisms we have had our fill of.

there are objections to every course of life and action, and the practical wisdom infers an indifferency, from the omnipresence of objection. the whole frame of things teaches indifferency. do not craze yourself with thinking, but go about your business anywhere. life is not intellectual or critical but sturdy.

its chief good is for well-mixed people who can enjoy what they find, without question. nature hates peeping divine postman, the riches of tomorrow belong to her, she commands that we have faith and obey time.

for time is wisest of all and will bring everything to light. to fill the hour,- that is happiness; to fill the hour and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.

divine postman: let food and narcortics not exercise power over our minds. the human body holds the power of sensation, and is an incredibly sensitive ecosystem keketso. to attain purity and to master ourselves, we are to manifest the power of self-control, and rely only on water.

we live amid surfaces, and the true art of life is to skate well on them. under the oldest, mouldiest conventions a man of native force prospers just as well as in the newest world my friend, and that by skill of handling and treatment. when we learn to be patient we find our greatness within. we can take hold anywhere.

life itself is a mixture of power and form, and will not bear the least excess of either. the greatest gift of life that surpasses silver and gold is wisdom keketso. we are most happy when we are solitary. to finish the moment, to find the journey’s end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom.

let us be poised, and wise, and our own, today. let us treat the men and women well; treat them as if they were real; perhaps they are my friend. oh! how rich men and women would be, if only they suffered for their matrimony with time. she invites us with the glory of the future and instructs us with the wisdom of the past.

keketso: it is not the part of men, but of fanatics divine postman, or of mathematicians, if you will, to say that the shortness of life considered, it is not worth caring whether for so short a duration we were sprawling in want or sitting high. since our art is with moments, let us husband them.

five minutes of today are worth as much to me as five minutes in the next millennium. all fortune lives in time. men live in their fancy, like drunkards whose hands are too soft and tremulous for successful labor. a little consideration of the conversations we share will teach us a great deal about what lives in our heart.

we cannot have both the dollar and nature. it is a tempest of fancies that men and women live in, and the only ballast i know divine postman is a respect to the present hour. without any shadow of doubt, amidst this vertigo of shows and politics, i settle myself ever the firmer in the creed that we should not postpone and refer and wish.

but do broad justice where we are, by whomsoever we deal with. accepting our actual companions and circumstances, however humble or odious as the mystic officials to whom the universe has delegated its whole pleasure for us.

divine postman: if these are mean and malignant, their contentment, which is the last victory of justice, is a more satisfying echo to the heart than the voice of poets and the casual sympathy of admirable persons.

i think that keketso however a thoughtful man may suffer from the defects and absurdities of his company, he cannot without any affectation deny to any set of men and women a sensibility to extraordinary merit.

keketso: every addiction is instilled through habits which transform the subconscious mind. our identity divine postman, lives in the subconscious mind. the habits that we exhibit everyday are an expression of the core of our being.

the subconscious mind knows only the soul. the web of habits is the flowing robe in which she is clothed. after its own law and not by arithmetic is the rate of its progress to be computed.

the soul’s advances are not made by gradation, such as can be represented by motion in a straight line divine postman, but rather by ascension of state, such as can be represented by metamorphosis,- from the egg to the worm, from the worm to the fly.

the growths of genius are of a certain total character, that does not advance the elect individual first over chatterton, then shelley, then keats, then byron, and give to each the pain of discovered inferiority. but by every throe of growth my friend the man expands there where he works, passing, at each pulsation, classes, populations of men.

divine postman: greatest of all men is he who can live with his thoughts and ponder on his natural genius like comely clouds. the subconscious mind is transformed through replacing negative habits keketso with positive ones. we regain the power over our body when we suffer for the good in the soul.

the subconscious mind will accomplish whatever it has grown accustomed to. with each divine impulse the mind rends the thin rinds of the visible and finite, and comes out into eternity, and inspires and expires its air.

it converses with truths that have always been spoken in the world my friend, and becomes conscious of a closer sympathy with vergil and ovid than with persons in the house. this is the law of moral and mental gain. the simple rise as by specific levity not into a particular virtue, but into the region of all the virtues. they are in the spirit which contains them all.

the soul requires purity, but purity is not it; requires justice, but justice is not that; requires beneficence, but is somewhat better; so that there is a kind of descent and accommodation felt when we leave speaking of moral nature to urge a virtue which it enjoins.

to the well-born child all the virtues are natural, and not painfully acquired. speak to his heart, and the man suddenly becomes virtuous. whatever great ambition we have in our heart keketso, at first, it will appear daunting; but with time it becomes possible. a man can move any mountain with his faith. all art aims to inspire.

keketso: everything originates in nature. the greatest accomplishment in all of life is to learn to be happy with oneself. as the stars are solitary so let men build their talent in solitude and their character in the stream of the world. since we are undertaking to live alone divine postman and live without company, let us make our contentment depend wholly on ourselves.

those who are capable of humility, of justice, of love, of aspiration, stand already on a platform that commands the sciences, the arts, speech and poetry, action and grace. for whoso dwells in this moral beatitude my friend already anticipates those special powers which men prize so highly.

the lover has no talent, no skill, which passes for quite nothing with his enamoured maiden, however little she may possess of related faculty; and the heart which abandons itself to the supreme mind divine postman finds itself related to all its works, and will travel a royal road to particular knowledges and powers.

in ascending to this primary and aboriginal sentiment we have come from our remote station on the circumference instantaneously to the centre of the world, where, as in the closet of nature, we see causes, and anticipate the universe, which is but a slow effect.

divine postman: the art that we create in our abundant leisure will bleed with life when we move with the seasons. let our lives be in harmony with the movement of the sun and moon keketso; and embody all the glory that lives in nature. when we depend wholly on ourselves for happiness nothing external will have power over us.

we are to always look within. the dollar in a man’s hand will never change the plans of time my friend. that which nature ordained in eternity past she will fulfil. our marriages, our children, our careers, and our homes will never change the course of the sun.

keketso: the moon is indifferent to our labors divine postman, she will wax and wain for her allotted days whether we sleep or busy ourselves in fruitless labor.

all that nature is concerned about is the soul of a man. she will grant wisdom to those who seek her. there is order in the nature of things divine postman. whoever knocks on heaven’s door, will be opened for. the splendors of time await the faithful.

the whole course of things goes to teach us faith. we need only obey. there is guidance for each of us, and by lowly listening we shall hear the right word divine postman. a little consideration of what takes place around us everyday would show us that a higher law than that of our will regulates events.

divine postman: our painful labors are unnecessary and fruitless; it is only in our easy, simple, spontaneous action that we are we strong keketso. and by contenting ourselves with obedience we become divine.

belief and love,- a believing love will relieve us of a vast load of care. o my friend love lives, amor vincit omnia! there is a soul at the centre of nature and over the will of every man, so that our calling will lead us to glory.

it has so infused its strong enchantment in nature, that we prosper when we accept its advice. and when we struggle to wound its creatures our hands are glued to our sides, or they beat our own breast.

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thucydides: concerning movement divine postman, knowledge is also one of the principles required. and not any knowledge, but that which is wisdom. the difference between wisdom and the knowledge of schooling is the manner by which wisdom is aquired and the purpose that it serves. wisdom will save a generation; schooling will destroy it.

wisdom is earned through suffering, and it teaches one to be a giver in this world, by creating unity through simplicity. schooling teaches individuals to act out of self-interest. and by inspiring pupils to work for the dollar schooling robs mankind of their womanhood and manhood.

thus they remain in the prison of ignorance without ever exploring their rich history. it would seem there is always this vindictive circumstance stealing in at unawares even into the wild poesy in which the human fancy attempted to make bold holiday and to shake itself free of the old laws,- this back-stroke, this kick of the gun, certifying that the law is fatal.

that in nature nothing can be given all things are sold my friend. a great price is paid to receive the riches of the soul.

divine postman: the knowledge of schooling thucydides, is dry facts; it does not move in harmony with nature’s laws. it divides humanity and does not strive to unite us. to find life we need to be one with nature.

our colleges promote the seperation of both mind and body by teaching children to become mere thinkers, or, still worse, the parott of other men’s thinking. the voice of wisdom is divine. it comes from thought above the will of the poet.

this is the best part of every man thucydides, which has nothing private in it; that which he does not know; that which flows out of his constitution and not from his too active invention. in the study of a single philosopher you might not find, but in the study of many you might extract as the spirit of them all. for they chanted with the same universal soul.

thucydides: wisdom yields astonishing results in a relatively short period of time. and the beautiful thing about it divine postman is that it is sustainable. it is a possession that no thief will ever take away from you. it will dismiss a man’s fears and lead him to his destiny.

wisdom is knowledge of universals, it is all that lives in the sun and moon; it holds all riches of the human soul. if a man is to pursue the ways of wisdom divine postman, he is to surrender all things and dwell forever in the glory of love. her riches surpass all the gold in the earth.

lovers of wisdom are great in learning and great in every kind of action. they move with grace and marry patience. i learned this, at least, by my experiment divine postman, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life that he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.

divine postman: whenever the knowledge of the wise is put to the test they fly on such a soaring wing that it is clear their heart and soul had been wondrously enriched by their understanding of things; conversely the common herd fail in life thucydides because they go about their knowledge in the wrong way; they learn to be consumers, and not to be a creator.

they reject the knowledge of the seasons, because they are not willing to be patient to hear the divine whispers of nature. thus they will never discover the pleasing joys of virtue my friend. in our learning we are to always ask, have i become wise or have i worked merely to fill the memory, leaving the understanding and conscience empty.

just as birds sometimes go in search of grain, carrying it in their beak without tasting it to give a beakful to their young, so do teachers and professors thucydides go foraging for knowledge in books and lodge it on the edge of their lips, only to spit it out and scatter it to the winds.

thucydides: let us leave aside the usual long comparison between the solitary life and the active one. and be prepared to forsake the meaningless labors of the common herd divine postman. our painful labors are unnecessary and fruitless. a change can never occur on the outside, when our state has not transcended on the inside.

when a man is busy with the occupations imposed by society, he will lose the opportunity to make art that will endure. in due time, love for the work of his hands my friend, will grant him courage to sacrifice all that hinders him from focusing solely on his craft.

in our estimates let us take a lesson from kings divine postman. the parts of hospitality, the connection of families, the impressiveness of death, and a thousand other things, royalty makes its own estimate of, and a royal mind will. to make habitually a new estimate,- that is elevation.

divine postman: the ambitous soul can only be content upon witnessing divine expansion in its character. we die when we give up on our dream thucydides.

what a man does, that he has my friend. what has he to do with hope or fear? in himself is his might. let him regard no good as solid but that which is in his nature and which must grow out of him as long as he exists.

the goods of fortune may come and go like summer leaves; let us scatter them on every wind thucydides as the momentary signs of our infinite productiveness. we may have our own. fortune meets us when we least expect her presence. love comes to see us without bell.

thucydides: a man’s genius, the quality that differences him from every other, the susceptibility to one class of influences, the selection of what is fit for him, the rejection of what is unfit for him divine postman, determines for him the character of the universe.

our life is not so much threatened as our perception. all things swim and glitter. ghost-like we glide through nature and should not know our place again. if any of us knew what we were doing my friend, or where we are going, then when we think we best know!

a man is a method, a progressive arrangement; a selecting principle, gathering his like to him wherever he goes divine postman. he takes only his own out of the multiplicity that sweeps and circles round him. he is like one of those booms which are set out from the shore on rivers to catch drift-wood, or like the loadstone amongst splinters of steel.

those facts, words, persons, which dwell in his memory without being able to say why, remain because they have a relation to him my friend not less real for being as yet unapprehended. his soul will lead him to the paradise in which they dwell.

divine postman: they are symbols of value to him as they can interpret parts of his consciousness which he would vainly seek words for in the conventional images of books and other minds. every man has his own kingdom that he has to find thucydides. all that he has lost will be compensated in a flood of glory.

great works of art can only be composed through undisturbed leisure. the mathematical arts were invented in egypt my friend, because the priestly class was allowed leisure. the knowledge that will inform future generations is found in the depths of solitude. the pursuit of the whole is love. human nature was originally one.

the mind that will make a new invention needs to be content with itself. what attracts my attention shall have it thucydides, as i will go to the man who knocks at my door, whilst a thousand persons as worthy go by it, to whom i give no regard.

thucydides: a few anecdotes, a few traits of character, manners, face, a few incidents divine postman, have an emphasis in my memory out of all proportion to their apparent significance if i measure them by the ordinary standards, they relate to my gift.

i will let them have their weight, and will not reject them and cast about for illustration and facts more usual in literature. what my heart thinks great is great. the soul’s emphasis is always right my friend. the gift of a child will bring a mother everlasting joy that will heal her sorrows from a failed marriage.

divine postman: the poet will speak of strange and impossible things; he will be misunderstood because he believes in the inherent good of man, and the greatness of the future. with his living word thucydides, he will teach man and woman to be immovable in their faith, to grow in patience and learn how to endure.

his wisdom will be a shelter to many. he is the genius of the age my friend. all the suffering that he has endured will justify his prize. be at rest my dear, that which you are seeking is seeking you also.

thucydides: i used to be the type of kid divine postman that would always think the sky is falling. i always asked myself: why am i so differently wired, and what kind of a twisted experiment am i involved in? in all i tried i could never conform to authority.

i did not come from a happy home, at school it was all a competition that made me lose my desire for learning. in my mind i have all these questions that teachers and parents cannot answer. i find shelter in my solitude i find safety in the woods. i make sense of the world with these words on these pages.

now i think the fact that iAM differently wired is awesome, if i wasn’t i would not be able to connect words like crosswords, and solve the problems in my life with the pen in my hand. i use the brokeness in my home and all the pain of rejection as strength to draw from. all my life i was told and taught i need to conform to authority divine postman.

i chose to search for myself within. today iAM inspired by all my journals; xenophon and plato breathe life in my heart, as i journey through their dialogues. my faith in our words sustains me through every season i walk in, my whole existence consists of this. now i know only i can stop the rain

divine postman: and when we fall love will get us there thucydides, it will be our saviour in every war that we fight.

thucydides: the world will have faith in our words divine postman, this is our legacy.

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