Boing Quotes

I can think of no better way to meet a girl than to see her through the eyes of the story she loves best.

We are no longer the knights who say Ni! We are now the knights who say ekki-ekki-ekki-pitang-zoom-boing!

I love you just the way you are but you don't see you like I do. You shouldn't try so hard to be perfect. Trust me, perfect should try to be you.

Life isn't about trying to be an expert in everything. It's about being an expert in one thing and offering it to the world.

Our bodies need regular washing because we get dirty everyday. But so do our hearts! Because each day, people hurt us, offend us, forget us, snub us, step on us, reject us. But if we choose to forgive everyone everyday, we cleanse our hearts! We wake up the next morning refreshed and pure and lovely!

And if that bastard’s innocent,” Rhage spoke up, “I’m the fucking Easter bunny.” “Oh, good,” someone quipped. “I’m calling you Hop-along Hollywood from now on.” “Beasty Bo Peep,” somebody else threw out. “We could put you in a Cadbury ad and finally make some money—” “People,” Rhage barked, “the point is that he is not innocent and I’m not the Easter bunny—” “Where’s your basket?” “Can I play with your eggs?” “Hop it out, big guy—” “Will you guys fuck off ? Seriously!

Whenever you feel a negative emotion be alone in a room and just sit down with it and feel. Don't judge it, criticize it, intellectualize it, explain it away. Allow yourself to feel the pain. It's okay. Accompany it - breathe into it - and after a while, you'll feel the anger or fear or sadness lose it's urgency and power. Allow God to tenderly embrace you in your pain. And then, at the right time, you can let go.

Whoever said that money can't buy happiness, simply didn't know where to go shopping

Our stresses, anxieties, pains, and problems arise because we do not see the world, others, or even ourselves as worthy of love. (9)

What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?” “Knife to the throat?” asked Inej. “Gun to the back?” said Jesper. “Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina. “You’re all horrible,” said Matthias. Kaz rolled his eyes. “The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go. Hringkälla is going to do that job for us. The Ice Court will have to divert resources to monitoring guests and protecting the royal family. They can’t be looking everywhere at once. It’s the perfect opportunity to spring Bo Yul-Bayur.” Kaz pointed to the prison gate in the ringwall. “Remember what I told you at Hellgate, Nina?” “It’s hard to keep track of all your wisdom.

Well, man, you know what they say." No, I don't. I don't know what they say. I don't even know who they are. Who is this they? They seem pretty smug. They seem to think they know shit. Fuck them.

We are all wounded. But wounds are necessary for his healing light to enter into our beings. Without wounds and failure and frustrations and defeats, there will be no opening for his brilliance to tickle in and invade our lives. Failures in life are courses with very high tuition fees, so I don't cut classes and miss my lessons: on humility, on patience, on hope, on asking others for help, on listening to God, on trying again and again and again.

Because simplicity isn't the greatest thing in the world, but love.

God did not create man. Man created god. He did this to help him deal with death, the unknown, and all the other bo**ocks that he couldn't quite get his head around.

He'll never leave you for one moment. He will watch over you night and day.

I want you to be my wife. There’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with. We can live out here, you, me, our kids, and Bo. But I get it now, Anna. My decisions affect you, too. So now you have one of your own to make. Will you marry me?

For crying out loud, stop comparing and start living! And you'll be happier with your life, I guarantee. This is crucial: the most difficult thing in the world is to be who you are not. Pretending and trying to be someone else is the official pastime of the human race. And the easiest thing in the world is to be yourself. Be happy. Live! There must be a reason why God made you tall or short or fat or thin or bumpy all over. Love who you are!

BoJack: Life's a bitch and then you die, right? Diane: Sometimes. Sometimes life's a bitch and then you keep living. BoJack: Yeah. Diane: But it's a nice night, huh? BoJack: Yeah.

Take responsibility for finding your one true love

Marcus mumbles something about PMS and to my surprise, from the kitchen, Bo says, “Why can’t she just be having a shitty day? You don’t need to make up some bullshit reason why.

Every day it gets a little easier… But you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part. But it does get easier.

He nuzzled my neck, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell so good.” “Oh, yeah,” I said, smirking. “I call this new perfume ‘Le Jungle grime et tropical BO.’ ” “Dirt and sweat. Very sexy.

For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth

Mmmmmm I like that thing you do with your tongue. What do you call it? Speaking? Yeah, I dig it

Books are not meant to remain in your mind, but in your heart. Maybe they exist in your mind too, but as something more than memories. At a crossroads in life, a forgotten sentence or a story from years ago can come back to offer an invisible hand and guide you to a decision. Personally, I feel like the books I've read led me to make the choices I've made in life. While I may not remember all the details, the stories continue to exert a quiet influence on me.

Because you and I have the power to impute beauty on anything under the sun. Because you become the labels you give yourself. If you declare you're beautiful - not despite your imperfections, but because of them - then you are.

We're in this world to bring heaven down to earth.

All of us prepare our own lunch. If we don't like our jobs, if we don't like the state of our relationships, if we don't like what's happening to our spiritual lives - we have no one to blame but ourselves. Because God has given us free will.

things that matter most must never be at the mercy of the things that matter least.

I've accepted the fact that because I'm human, I'm terrific in one thing, good at some, mediocre at a bit more, and terrible at others. And if you're human, you are too. You'll have to discover the one thing that you are good at and major in it.

Fireflies Hey, fireflies! Fly higher, guys! Fly high above this place. Till a sky rise is a wire’s size. Then fly off into space. I catch stupid bugs in jars but you’re not bugs you’re baby stars!

Next time you pray any kind of prayer, whether it be for the resolution of healing, or for a house, or for a car, or for a husband, or for a family conflict, or for a solution to a problem, tell Him he can say yes or no. Because in the end, you're a winner. Every time.

What's important is that you stay true to yourself. Because when you enter the real world, the most valuable thing you can bring is all your you-ness. The world doesn't need any more hot chicks or tough guys or smooth talkers - the world needs more you. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Your afraid of sharks? Really? They don't even have bones! They have cartilage. Are you afraid of ears too?

Happy couples make it a habbit to refocus. Because it's quite normal to be distracted. So they talk. They get away for a while. They pray. They go on a marriage retreat. They take a second honeymoon or a 3rd, or 4th, or a 5th..

A life surrounded by good people is a successful life. It might not be success as defined by society, but thanks to the people around you, each day is a successful day'.

Is there anything better than pussy? Yes, a really good book.

You missed the morning’s festivities,” Bo said to Adamat. “You call torturing a man ‘festivities’?” Adamat asked. “I’m not a good person,” Bo said.

Hanged" I hung myself today. Hanged? Whatever, the point is I hanged myself today and I’m still hanging. I feel fine. Just bored. I keep hoping that someone will come home and cut me down but then I keep remembering that if I knew someone like that I wouldn’t be up here. Bit ironic, right? Or is that not ironic? I read somewhere that, like, anything funny is, in some way, ironic. But I don’t know if it's funny or not. I don’t think my brain owns “funny”, you know? I feel taller. I like that. I’ve never been away from my shadow for this long. It had always clung to my feet, parting momentarily for a quick dive into the swimming pool. But never for five hours. I like it. There’s three feet of space between my two and the floor. I wanted something this morning. I may be stuck. But at least I’m three feet closer to it.

You How, may I ask, did you get so you, you beautiful true-to-you doer? I’ve met many today but can honestly say that I’ve never met anyone you-er.

She was going to be pissed when I showed up in the bar tonight, but Bo and Blake were never going to touch her again. Ever.

Do not ask directions from the people around you. Ask directions from the person who called you.

Read this to yourself. Read it silently. Don't move your lips. Don't make a sound. Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything. What a wonderfully weird thing, huh? NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD! SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND! DROWN EVERYTHING OUT. Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper. Now, read this next line in your best crotchety- old man voice: "Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?" Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that? It sure wasn't yours! How do you do that? How?! It must've been magic.

Bitches and hoes don't exist because the hoes know Bo's a feminist.

Bombs The first bomb dropped unheard, unlike the loudly dropped second and third; then the final bomb dropped from the sky to the ground and the last-seen bomb made the last-heard sound.

Forever and An Instant met up one day, Had a short, but lovely talk, then each went on it's way.

I'd say 'my pleasure' but if I'm gonna carry you to bed, I'd rather you be conscious," Bo said, a wry quirk on his lips. - Blood Like Poison

Instead of agonising over what you should do, think about putting effort into whatever you're doing. It's more important to try your best in whatever you do, no matter how small it may seem. All your effort will add up to something.

But unfriendly is usually one of those things you pick up on right away. You know, like B.O. There's no hiding it if it's there.

You never know all of a person; you only know them in a specific moment of time.

Imagination They say adults have no imagination. Not true. Just instead of dinosaurs and spaceships, they imagine silence and the new babysitter bent over the coffee table.

They say it's the 'me' generation. It's not. The arrogance is taught, or it was cultivated. It's self-conscious. That's what it is. It's conscious of self. Social media - it's just the market's answer to a generation that demanded to perform, so the market said, here - perform. Perform everything to each other, all the time, for no reason. It's prison - it's horrific. It's performer and audience melded together. What do we want more than to lie in our bed at the end of the day and just watch our life as a satisfied audience member. I know very little about anything. But what I do know is that if you can live your life without an audience, you should do it.

If you were perfect, I’d tattoo this on my chest. If you were beautiful, I’d carve this into a tree trunk. If you were nice, I’d write this in a letter. But you’re none of those—

Mirovên geşbîn û reşbîn, her du jî ji bo civakê pêwîst in. Geşbîn balafirê didahêne; reşbîn sîwana rizgariyê.

Ich kann KiBoTu.

You'll have to go get laid by a random stranger." Bo pointed to the television. "Can I wait for a commercial or do I have to git-'er-done right now?" "You can wait.

The elevator doors opened on the first floor and Van Holtz was waiting there with several bags of groceries in his hands. “Oh. You,” he said. He started to walk in and, without thinking, simply reacting, Bo shoved him back out of the elevator by his head and hit the elevator button again. “You asshole!” Bo heard as the door closed.

Life is too complicated and expansive to be judged solely by the career you have. You could be unhappy doing something you liked, just as it was possible to do what you didn't like but derive happiness from something entirely different. Life is mysterious and complex. Work plays an important role in life, but it isn't solely responsible for our happiness or misery

Each soul has its own note to sing in the divine chorus and no voice is more important than another. (94)

Lobotomy,’ I mouth at him, trying to make it look like I’m scratching my forehead when I tap it and nod toward David. Rowan’s head tilts and I roll my eyes, gritting my teeth. ‘Lo-bo-to-my.’ Rowan’s head tilts in the other direction, his brow still furrowed but a hint of a grin playing at his lips. He subtly points at me, and then at himself. ‘You love me?’ he mouths.  I smack my head.

Sully suffers from a stutter, simple syllables will clutter, stalling speeches up on beaches like a sunken sailboat rudder. Sully strains to say his phrases, sickened by the sounds he raises, strings of thoughts come out in knots, he solves his sentences like mazes. At night, he writes his thoughts instead and sighs as they steadily rush from his head.

Not making a decision is the worst thing you can do. So long as you feel you made the right decision based on the information you had at that time, there's no need to fret about it. If it fails, you'll know what to do next time.

Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration,motivation, and a pinch of creativity

Wealth is an inner feeling. More precisely, wealth is an outlook, an attitude, a belief. And the most obvious measurement of wealth is gratitude.

Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, hollow be thy promises and shallow be thy shame. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. On a scale from on to ten, our Lord is totally eleven. Give us this day our daily bread, toasted close to dawn, and forgive us our trespasses as we shoot those who trespass on our lawn, and lead us not into temptation, such as pot or porno, but deliver us from evil (if not delivery, then DiGiorno).

There's a meaning behind blank pages, too.

The only antidote to fear is love. When you fill your life with love, your fears naturally disappear. I'm talking about a love for God, a love for others, a love for yourself, and a love for life itself. The Bible says, "Perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18)." Once your fears are gone, happiness will flood your soul.

I wrote poetry from the time I could write. That was the only way I could begin to express who I was but the poems didn't make sense to my teachers. They didn't rhyme. They were about the wind sounds, the planets' motions, never about who I was or how I felt. I didn't think I felt anything. I was this mind more than a body or a heart. My mind photographing the stars, hearing the wind.

Those who stay will be champions

Because life is a mirror. What you see in others is a reflection of what you see in yourself.

Big When I was little, I killed ants with a magnifying glass. And now I'm big. And I worry I'm doing the same thing with you.

By your own soul, learn to live. If some men force you, take no heed. If some men hate you, have no care. Sing your song, dream your dreams Hope your hopes, and pray your prayers.

Humans have a saying that "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder", which basically means that if you think it's beautiful, then it is beautiful. The elfin version of this saying was composed by the great poet B.O Selecta, who said "Even the plainest of the plain shall deign to reign", which critics have always thought was a bit rhymey. The dwarf version of this maxim is "If it don't stink, marry it", which is slightly less romantic, but the general gist is the same.

When your team is winning, be ready to be tough, because winning can make you soft. On the other hand, when your team is losing, stick by them. Keep believing

A day well spent is a life well lived.

I want to be with you,” he says. “But I can’t if you won’t let me.” “Why?” I drop my bag in the driveway. “Why do you want to be with this?” I wave my arm up and down the length of my body. Immediately, I hate myself for this. The only person making this about my body is me. “Because I like you. I think I might feel a lot more than that for you, Willowdean. How is that so hard to believe?

A yogi is much more disciplined in his speech. Yogic tradition has it that speech must pass before three barriers prior to being uttered aloud. These barriers come in the form of three questions: Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary? (112-113)

While we are focusing on fear, worry, or hate, it is not possible for us to be experiencing happiness, enthusiasm or love.

Judge Jesus I said, “You can’t judge me. Only Jesus can!” He said, “Well I can ’cause I’m a judge and ’cause you just killed a man.

Let your ideas be second-hand, and if possible tenth-hand, for then they will be far removed from that disturbing element - direct observation. Do not learn anything about this subject of mine - the French Revolution. Learn instead what I think that Enicharmon thought Urizen thought Gutch thought Ho-Yung thought Chi-Bo-Sing thought Lafcadio Hearn thought Carlyle thought Mirabeau said about the French Revolution.

The angel popped his already mile high collar. "She said she wanted the holiest thing in the house to do it." "She got holey, all right," somebody muttered. "Is that Butche's Bible?" V asked. The angel flashed the goods. "Yup, and his BoC, he called it? I also got a sermon I did myself." "Saints preserve us," came from the opposite side of the crowd. "Wait, Wait, Wait." V waved his hand rolled around. "I'm the son of a deity and she picked you?

Every one of us is like an island; alone and lonely. It's not a bad thing. Solitude sets us free, just as loneliness brings depth to our lives. In the novels I like, the characters are like isolated islands. In the novels I love, the characters used to be like isolated islands, until their fates gradually intertwined; the kind of stories where you whisper, 'You were here?' and a voice answers, 'Yes, always.

Like a child standing in a beautiful park with his eyes shut tight, there's no need to imagine trees, flowers, deer, birds, and sky; we merely need to open our eyes and realize what is already here, who we already are - as soon as we stop pretending we're small or unholy.

Dissonance before moments of harmony makes the harmony sound beautiful. Just as harmony and dissonance exist side by side in music, life is the same. Because harmony is preceded by dissonance, that's why we think life's beautiful.

There is no less holiness at this time- as you are reading this- than there was on the day the Red Sea parted, or that day in the 30th year, in the 4th month, on the 5th day of the month as Ezekiel was a captive by the river Cheban, when the heavens opened and he saw visions of god. There is no whit less enlightenment under the tree at the end of your street than there was under Buddha’s bo tree…. In any instant the sacred may wipe you with its finger. In any instant the bush may flare, your feet may rise, or you may see a bunch of souls in trees.

To find happiness, do what you enjoy. All of you should find something you enjoy doing, something that makes you excited. Instead of pursuing what is recognised and valued by society, do what you like. If you can find it, you’ll not waver easily, no matter what others think. Be brave.

At last, Sturmhond straightened the lapels of his teal frock coat and said, “Well, Brekker, it’s obvious you only deal in half-truths and outright lies, so you’re clearly the man for the job.” “There’s just one thing,” said Kaz, studying the privateer’s broken nose and ruddy hair. “Before we join hands and jump off a cliff together, I want to know exactly who I’m running with.” Sturmhond lifted a brow. “We haven’t been on a road trip or exchanged clothes, but I think our introductions were civilized enough.” “Who are you really, privateer?” “Is this an existential question?” “No proper thief talks the way you do.” “How narrow-minded of you.” “I know the look of a rich man’s son, and I don’t believe a king would send an ordinary privateer to handle business this sensitive.” “Ordinary,” scoffed Sturmhond. “Are you so schooled in politics?” “I know my way around a deal. Who are you? We get the truth or my crew walks.” “Are you so sure that would be possible, Brekker? I know your plans now. I’m accompanied by two of the world’s most legendary Grisha, and I’m not too bad in a fight either.” “And I’m the canal rat who brought Kuwei Yul-Bo out of the Ice Court alive. Let me know how you like your chances.” His crew didn’t have clothes or titles to rival the Ravkans, but Kaz knew where he’d put his money if he had any left. Sturmhond clasped his hands behind his back, and Kaz saw the barest shift in his demeanor. His eyes lost their bemused gleam and took on a surprising weight. No ordinary privateer at all. “Let us say,” said Sturmhond, gaze trained on the Ketterdam street below, “hypothetically, of course, that the Ravkan king has intelligence networks that reach deep within Kerch, Fjerda, and the Shu Han, and that he knows exactly how important Kuwei Yul-Bo could be to the future of his country. Let us say that king would trust no one to negotiate such matters but himself, but that he also knows just how dangerous it is to travel under his own name when his country is in turmoil, when he has no heir and the Lantsov succession is in no way secured.” “So hypothetically,” Kaz said, “you might be addressed as Your Highness.

If you really believe that that piece of bread is God – for crying out loud, the moment I enter this church, I would be on my knees. I would enter this church worshipping. I would cringe in terror and joy, swept away by the frightening truth that I am before the Almighty God.

Na przykład. Obudziłem się. Chcę wstać. Chcę wstać. Co to znaczy. Jest taki czas, że chcę wstać, a nie wstaję. Bo skoro wstaję, to nie "chcę"; ot, wstaję. Wstałem. A tu nie. Chcę. Co to za granica? Co takiego oddziela "chcę" od "robię"? Co za dziwny bufor intencji? Nie ciało. Nie niemoc fizyczna. Nie niedowład woli. (Bo CHCĘ!) Dlaczego zatem chcę, a nie wstaję? (Chcę, a nie pracuję. Chcę, a nie idę. Chcę, a nie jem. Chcę, a nie mówię. Na przykład.) Nawet jeśli tylko przez chwilę, przez sekundę, ułamek. Jak nazwać ów ośrodek, który stawia mi opór? Dla pływaka jest to woda. Dla dżdżownicy - ziemia. Dla jonu - pole elektromagnetyczne. A dla woli - co? Coś. Przeciwchcenie. Nolensum.

Flowers On the third of June, at a minute past two, where once was a person, a flower now grew. Five daisies arranged on a large outdoor stage in front of a ten-acre pasture of sage. In a changing room, a lily poses. At the DMV, rows of roses. The world was much crueler an hour ago. I’m glad someone decided to give flowers a go.

Read this to yourself. Read it silently. Don't move your lips. Don't make a sound. Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything. What a wonderfully weird thing, huh? NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD! SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND! DROWN EVERYTHING OUT. Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper. Now, read this next line in your best crotchety- old man voice: "Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?" Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that? It sure wasn't yours! How do you do that? How?! It must've been magic.

It’s handwritten,” Freddy whispered. “What is?” He pointed at the sheets of paper Coop held. Glancing down, Coop shook his head. “No, buddy. This is from a printer. It’s been typed.” “No. It hasn’t. Me, Denny, and the twins watched him do it for like an hour. He wrote out each one. By hand. We had to leave when Zoe began to cry. She was completely freaked out.” Freddy leaned in a little bit more and again whispered, “I think if she’d stayed any longer, she would have stabbed him to death. And I don’t think the rest of us would have tried to stop her.

And a variety of more colorful names. Hypothetically.” The privateer cast him an assessing glance. “Just how did you know I wasn’t who I claimed to be, Mister Brekker?” Kaz shrugged. “You speak Kerch like a native—a rich native. You don’t talk like someone who came up with sailors and street thugs.” The privateer turned slightly, giving Kaz his full attention. His ease was gone, and now he looked like a man who might command armies. “Mister Brekker,” he said. “Kaz, if I may? I am in a vulnerable position. I am a king ruling a country with an empty treasury, facing enemies on all sides. There are also forces within my country that might seize any absence as an opportunity to make their own bid for power.” “So you’re saying you’d make an excellent hostage.” “I suspect that the ransom for me would be considerably less than the price Kuwei has on his head. Really, it’s a bit of a blow to my self-esteem.” “You don’t seem to be suffering,” said Kaz. “Sturmhond was a creation of my youth, and his reputation still serves me well. I cannot bid on Kuwei Yul-Bo as the king of Ravka. I hope your plan will play out the way you think it will. But if it doesn’t, the loss of such a prize would be seen as a humiliating blunder diplomatically and strategically. I enter that auction as Sturmhond or as no one at all. If that is a problem—” Kaz settled his hands on his cane. “As long as you don’t try to con me, you can enter as the Fairy Queen of Istamere.

Spiritual literature can be a great aid to an aspirant, or it can be a terrible hindrance. If it is used to inspire practice, motivate compassion, ad nourish devotion, it serves a very valuable purpose. If scriptural study is used for mere intellectual understanding, for pride of accomplishment, or as a substitute for actual practice, then one is taking in too much mental food, which is sure to result in intellectual indigestion. (152)

I am fond of reminding my yoga students of the saying “It takes one to know one” when they become lost I condemnation and judgment of others. The world that we perceive is a reflection of our own states of mind and reveals our own level of consciousness. The world is little more than a Rorschach blot in which we see our own desire systems projected. We see what we want to see. (116)

<..> Reading makes you see with clearer eyes and understand the world better. When you do that , you become stronger - the feeling you associate with success. But at the same time with pain. Within the pages, there's much suffering, beyond that we've gone through in our finite experience of life. You'll read about suffering you didn't know existed. Having experienced their pain through words, it becomes a lot harder to focus on pursuing individual happiness and success. Reading makes you deviate further from the textbook definition of success because books don't make us go ahead of or above anyone else; they guide us to stand alongside others. <...> <..> We become more compassionate. To read is to see things from someone else's perspective, and that naturally leads you to stop and look out for other people, rather than chase after success in the rat race. If more people read, I think the world would become a better place.

I’m not trying to impress you,” he replied, glancing up at the front of the room. “Gads,” he said, blinking in surprise. “What is that ?” Hyacinth followed his gaze. Several of the Pleinsworth progeny, one of whom appeared to be costumed as a shepherdess, were milling about. “Now that’s an interesting coincidence,” Gareth murmured. “It might be time to start bleating,” she agreed. “I thought this was meant to be a poetry recitation.” Hyacinth grimaced and shook her head. “An unexpected change to the program, I’m afraid.” “From iambic pentameter to Little Bo Peep?” he asked doubtfully. “It does seem a stretch.” Hyacinth gave him a rueful look. “I think there will still be iambic pentameter.” His mouth fell open. “From Peep?” She nodded, holding up the program that had been resting in her lap. “It’s an original composition,” she said, as if that would explain everything. “By Harriet Pleinsworth.The Shepherdess, the Unicorn, and Henry VIII .” “All of them? At once?” “I’m not jesting,” she said, shaking her head. “Of course not. Even you couldn’t have made this up.” Hyacinth decided to take that as a compliment. “Why didn’t I receive one of these?” he asked, taking the program from her. “I believe it was decided not to hand them out to the gentlemen,” Hyacinth said, glancing about the room. “One has to admire Lady Pleinsworth’s foresight, actually. You’d surely flee if you knew what was in store for you.

The aspirant would do well to avoid those ‘spiritual teachers’ who delight in pointing out the evils of the world. These are immature egos attempting to discard their own negativities by projecting them onto others. The true yogi is one who is like a lion with himself, always striving to eradicate that which shadows his inner light, and like a lamb with others, always striving to see their inner light, no matter how dense may be the clouds that hide it. He is the king of the jungle of his world. He hides from no one and seeks escape from nothing. (88)

The bells gave tongue: Gaude, Sabaoth, John, Jericho, Jubilee, Dimity, Batty Thomas and Tailor Paul, rioting and exulting high up in the dark tower, wide mouths rising and falling, brazen tongues clamouring, huge wheels turning to the dance of the leaping ropes. Tin tan din dan bim bam bom bo--tan tin din dan bam bim bo bom--tan dan tin bam din bo bim bom--every bell in her place striking tuneably, hunting up, hunting down, dodging, snapping, laying her blows behind, making her thirds and fourths, working down to lead the dance again. Out over the flat, white wastes of fen, over the spear-straight, steel-dark dykes and the wind-bent, groaning poplar trees, bursting from the snow-choked louvres of the belfry, whirled away southward and westward in gusty blasts of clamour to the sleeping counties went the music of the bells--little Gaude, silver Sabaoth, strong John and Jericho, glad Jubilee, sweet Dimity and old Batty Thomas, with great Tailor Paul bawling and striding like a giant in the midst of them. Up and down went the shadows of the ringers upon the walls, up and down went the scarlet sallies flickering roofwards and floorwards, and up and down, hunting in their courses, went the bells of Fenchurch St. Paul.

The Jumblies I They went to sea in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they went to sea: In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, In a Sieve they went to sea! And when the Sieve turned round and round, And every one cried, 'You'll all be drowned!' They called aloud, 'Our Sieve ain't big, But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig! In a Sieve we'll go to sea!' Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. II They sailed away in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they sailed so fast, With only a beautiful pea-green veil Tied with a riband by way of a sail, To a small tobacco-pipe mast; And every one said, who saw them go, 'O won't they be soon upset, you know! For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long, And happen what may, it's extremely wrong In a Sieve to sail so fast!' Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. III The water it soon came in, it did, The water it soon came in; So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet In a pinky paper all folded neat, And they fastened it down with a pin. And they passed the night in a crockery-jar, And each of them said, 'How wise we are! Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long, Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong, While round in our Sieve we spin!' Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. IV And all night long they sailed away; And when the sun went down, They whistled and warbled a moony song To the echoing sound of a coppery gong, In the shade of the mountains brown. 'O Timballo! How happy we are, When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar, And all night long in the moonlight pale, We sail away with a pea-green sail, In the shade of the mountains brown!' Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. V They sailed to the Western Sea, they did, To a land all covered with trees, And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart, And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart, And a hive of silvery Bees. And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws, And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws, And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree, And no end of Stilton Cheese. Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. VI And in twenty years they all came back, In twenty years or more, And every one said, 'How tall they've grown! For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone, And the hills of the Chankly Bore!' And they drank their health, and gave them a feast Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; And every one said, 'If we only live, We too will go to sea in a Sieve,--- To the hills of the Chankly Bore!' Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve.