Poetic Motivational Quotes

Individuals often turn to poetry, not only to glean strength and perspective from the words of others, but to give birth to their own poetic voices and to hold history accountable for the catastrophes rearranging their lives.

Poetry empowers the simplest of lives to confront the most extreme sorrows with courage, and motivates the mightiest of offices to humbly heed lessons in compassion.

Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, wishes. Who looks inside, finds infinite wisdom.

This time around I was so lonely that I was forced to be face to face with myself. Realizing at the end of the day I only have me and I didn't seem to like my own company. I decided to I had to make myself into someone I can live with.

Each life is formed by its unique image, an image that is the essence of that life and calls it to a destiny. As the force of fate, this image acts as a personal daimon, an accompanying guide who remembers your calling. The daimon motivates. It protects. It invents and persists with stubborn fidelity. It resists compromising reasonableness and often forces deviance and oddity upon its keeper, especially when neglected or opposed. It offers comfort and can pull you into its shell, but it cannot abide innocence. It can make the body ill. It is out of step with time, finding all sorts of faults, gaps, and knots in the flow of life - and it prefers them. It has affinities with myth, since it is itself a mythical being and thinks in mythical patterns. It has much to do with feelings of uniqueness, of grandeur and with the restlessness of the heart, its impatience, its dissatisfaction, its yearning. It needs its share of beauty. It wants to be seen, witnessed, accorded recognition, particularly by the person who is its caretaker. Metaphoric images are its first unlearned language, which provides the poetic basis of mind, making possible communication between all people and all things by means of metaphors

Don’t forget to collect the memories on your journey. Remember, if you only focus on your destination, you will miss out on the benefits of the journey.

Love knows no classification whether you are rich, poor, minority, famous, man, woman, or whatever you have been labeled. Love is love and is for everyone. To understand your soul is to understand yourself.

..Breaking yet budding, dying yet living - standing amongst ruins and rage, reaching for possibilities playing hard to get.

The wonders of life...you and I are the light! Seek within...there is no one to fight…love is all…we are one…concentrate on bringing forth your sight...breathe deep…the universe is waiting for you divine ones.

There are four kinds of Tragedy, the Complex, depending entirely on Reversal of the Situation and Recognition; the Pathetic (where the motive is passion), — such as the tragedies on Ajax and Ixion; the Ethical (where the motives are ethical), — such as the Phthiotides and the Peleus.

Your personality should be described in poem not in paragraph.

Fool! The Ideal is in thyself, the impediment too is in thyself: thy Condition is but the stuff thou art to shape that same Ideal out of: what matters whether such stuff be of this sort or that, so the Form thou give it be heroic, be poetic? O thou that pinest in the imprisonment of the Actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a kingdom wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth: the thing thou seekest is already with thee, ‘here or nowhere,’ couldst thou only see!

A lie is yet a lie, though bought worldwide; soon it shall fade with coming of new tide. Truth remains truth, though stepped on like a dime; soon it shall reign with the passing of time. A lie lasts as long as there's suppression, for lies were but of man's fabrication. Truth lasts as long as there's constellation, for truths were but of Nature's formation.

Lewis created a new kind of marriage between theological reflection and poetic imagination.

You are capable of doing everything you are afraid of doing, If only you would energize and motivate the Magical thing would absolutely happen to you!

Lucretius poetic, or “everything is infinite randomness, life is awesome, let’s get drunk and fuck.” I don’t need a reason to live, I just need access to booze and sex, and that’s motivating enough. However,

Truth * I had a long heart-to-heart talk with a politician and a 14 month old baby the baby spoke more truth than the politician _________________ 2014(c)rassool jibraeel snyman "The Poetic Assassin

Epic art is founded on action, and the model of a society in which action could play out in greatest freedom was that of the heroic Greek period; so said Hegel, and he demonstrated it with The Iliad: even though Agamemnon was the prime king, other kings and princes chose freely to join him and, like Achilles, they were free to withdraw from the battle. Similarly the people joined with their princes of their own free will; there was no law that could force them; behavior was determined only by personal motives, the sense of honor, respect, humility before a more powerful figure, fascination with a hero's courage, and so on. The freedom to participate in the struggle and the freedom to desert it guaranteed every man his independence. In this way did action retain a personal quality and thus its poetic form. Against this archaic world, the cradle of the epic, Hegel contrasts the society of his own period: organized into the state, equipped with a constitution, laws, a justice system, an omnipotent administration, ministries, a police force, and so on. The society imposes its moral principles on the individual, whose behavior is thus determined by far more anonymous wishes coming from the outside than by his own personality. And it is in such a world that the novel was born.

We can all do so much more than we think we can. Wherever you think you are right now, you can go further, do better, be more than ever! What's wonderful is the future you're looking forward to and also your present potential right now! You're winning regardless. Both now and later.Celebrate you.

Nobody must question your right to smoke, but I've right, too, not to inhale your smoke. First of all, health abuse is not a right; use of right ought to lead to life, not blight. You have right to party with unchecked noise, but I've right, too, not be pained by your noise. In short, a right can't be claimed as a right, if it violates other people's right.

He didn’t even attempt to guess at what that delusion might be. He knew at the heart of it there was nothing poetic or metaphorical about it. The core motivation for all serial killers was the same: they got sexual release from rape, torture, pain, and murder. There was no other “why.” Trying to wrap it up in some elaborate psychological package was less than useless. Aloud he continued, “Also it’s notable

The child starts out by being attached to his mother as "the ground of all being." He feels helpless and needs the all-enveloping love of mother. He then turns to father as the new center of his affections, father being a guiding principle for thought and action; in this stage he is motivated by the need to acquire father's praise, and to avoid his displeasure. In the stage of full maturity he has freed himself from the person of mother and of father as protecting and commanding powers; he has established the motherly and fatherly principles in himself. He has become his own father and mother; he is father and mother. In the history of the human race we see—and can anticipate—the same development: from the beginning of the love for God as the helpless attachment to a mother Goddess, through the obedient attachment to a fatherly God, to a mature stage where God ceases to be an outside power, where man has incorporated the principles of love and justice into himself, where he has become one with God, and eventually, to a point where he speaks of God only in a poetic, symbolic sense.

The anti-technological hysteria that holds broad sections of the Western world in its grip is a product of metaphysics’ decay: it is betrayed by the fact that it clings to false classifications of beings in order to revolt against processes in which the overcoming of these classifications has already been carried out. It is reactionary in the essential sense of the word, because it expresses the ressentiment of obsolete bivalence against a polyvalence that it does not understand. That holds above all for the habits of the critique of power, which are always still unconsciously motivated by metaphysics. Under the old metaphysical schema the division of beings into subject and object is mirrored in the descending grade between master and slave and between worker and material. Within this disposition the critique of power can only be articulated as the resistance of the oppressed object-slave-material side to the subject-master-worker side. But ever since the statement ‘There is information,’ alias ‘There are systems,’ has been in power this opposition has lost its meaning and develops more and more into a playground for pseudo-conflicts. In fact, the hysteria amounts to searching for a master so as to be able to rise up against him. One cannot rule out the possibility that the effect, i.e., the master, has long been on the verge of dissolving and for the most part remains alive as a postulate of the slave fixated on rebellion—as a historicized Left and as a museum humanism. In contrast, a living leftist principle would have to prove itself anew by a creative dissidence, just as the thinking of homo humanus asserts itself in the poetic resistance to the metaphysical and technocratic reflexes of humanolatry.

Many real-world Northwestern endonyms have European origins, such as “Portland,” “Victoria,” “Bellingham,” and “Richland.” To address this phenomenon while also contributing a sense of the fantastic, I chose to utilize a forgotten nineteenth century European artificial language as a source. Volapük is clumsy and awkward, but shares a relationship with English vocabulary (upon which it is based) that I was able to exploit. In my fictional universe, that relationship is swapped, and English (or rather, “Vendelabodish”) words derive from Volapük (“Valütapük”). This turns Volapük into an ancient Latin-like speech, offering texture to a fictional history of the colonizers of my fictional planets. Does one have to understand ancient Rome and medieval Europe and America’s Thirteen Colonies to understand the modern Pacific Northwest? Nah. But exploring the character and motivations of a migrating, imperial culture certainly sets the stage for explaining a modernist backlash against the atrocities that inevitably come with colonization.             The vocabulary of Volapük has also given flavor that is appropriate, I feel, to the quasi-North American setting. While high fantasy worlds seem to be built with pillars of European fairy tales, the universe of Geoduck Street is intentionally built with logs of North American tall tales. Tolkien could wax poetic about the aesthetic beauty of his Elvish words all he wanted, since aesthetic beauty fits the mold of fairies and shimmering palaces, but Geoduck Street needed a “whopper-spinning” approach to artificial language that would make a flapjack-eating Paul Bunyan proud. A prominent case in point: in this fictional universe, the word “yagalöp” forms the etymological root of “jackalope.” “Yag,” in the original nineteenth century iteration of Volapük, means “hunting,” while “löp” means “summit.” Combining them together makes them “the summit of hunting.” How could a jackalope not be a point of pride among hunting trophies?

In this article, we embark on a journey to explore the timeless beauty of, their significance, and the impact they have on our lives. دل کی آواز ہے شعور کی زبان جذبات کی ترجمان، اردو کا فسانہ محبت کا سفر ہے یہ اردو کی نغمہ جب دلوں کو بھاگتا ہے، بے نیاز سامہ یادوں کی بستی میں بسایا ہے اردو کو حقیقتوں کو ہمسفر، ہمراز بنایا ہے اردو نے دل کو چھو جانے والی اردو کی باتیں روح کو جگا دیتی ہیں، احساس کی لہریں بھرتی ہیں اردو قواعدوں کے سائے شاعری کی بستی میں بہتی ہیں جلوے اردو کے لفظوں میں روشنی کی روشنی ہر تصویر، ہر احساس، سرمستی کی جوشنی یونہی بہتا رہے گا اردو کا سفر جدید دور کیا کہتا ہے، لبوں کا ورق The Essence of Urdu Quotes: Urdu quotes serve as windows to the soul, capturing complex emotions and experiences in just a few words. With their eloquence, they transcend boundaries of time and culture, resonating with individuals around the world. Whether it's about love, life, or spirituality, Urdu quotes beautifully express the depth of human emotions and offer glimpses of wisdom that can guide us through our journeys. The Power of Words: Urdu quotes hold a unique power. Each carefully chosen word carries weight and meaning, creating a powerful impact on the reader's mind. These quotes have the ability to inspire, motivate, and uplift spirits. They encapsulate life's truths in a poetic and concise manner, making them accessible to a wide audience. The Beauty of Urdu Language: Urdu, known for its lyrical qualities and mellifluous flow, adds an extra layer of charm to the quotes. Its poetic nature and rich vocabulary enable the creation of verses that resonate deeply with readers. Whether it's the delicate expressions of love or the introspective reflections on life's complexities, Urdu quotes possess a unique ability to stir emotions and touch the soul. Reflections of Culture and History: Urdu quotes reflect the cultural and historical tapestry of the region. They are imbued with the traditions, values, and experiences of generations. These quotes provide a glimpse into the literary heritage of renowned poets and philosophers, offering insights into their perspectives and contributions to Urdu literature. Urdu Quotes in the Modern Era: In today's digital age, Urdu quotes have found a new platform to reach audiences worldwide. Social media platforms and websites dedicated to Urdu literature have become havens for sharing and appreciating these poetic gems. People are rediscovering the beauty of Urdu quotes, and their popularity continues to soar, bridging gaps between different cultures and fostering a sense of unity. Conclusion: Urdu quotes are more than just words; they are a source of inspiration, solace, and introspection. They capture the essence of life's joys and sorrows, providing us with profound insights and guiding us on our journeys. As we delve into the world of Urdu quotes, we unlock a treasure trove of emotions and wisdom, reminding us of the power of language and the universal nature of human experiences. So, let us embrace the beauty of Urdu quotes and allow them to touch our hearts, inspire our souls, and create a deeper connection with ourselves and others.

According to folk belief that is reflected in the stories and poems, a being who is petrified man and he can revive. In fairy tales, the blind destructiveness of demonic beings can, through humanization psychological demons, transformed into affection and love of the water and freeing petrified beings. In the fairy tale " The Three Sisters " Mezei de-stone petrified people when the hero , which she liked it , obtain them free . In the second story , the hero finding fairy , be petrified to the knee , but since Fairy wish to marry him , she kissed him and freed . When entering a demonic time and space hero can be saved if it behaves in a manner that protects it from the effects of demonic forces . And the tales of fortune Council hero to not turn around and near the terrifying challenges that will find him in the demon area . These recommendations can be tracked ancient prohibited acts in magical behavior . In one short story Penina ( evil mother in law ) , an old man , with demonic qualities , sheds , first of two brothers and their sister who then asks them , iron Balot the place where it should be zero as chorus, which sings wood and green water . When the ball hits the ground resulting clamor and tumult of a thousand voices, but no one sees - the brothers turned , despite warnings that it should not , and was petrified . The old man has contradictory properties assistants and demons . Warning of an old man in a related one variant is more developed - the old man tells the hero to be the place where the ball falls to the reputation of stones and hear thousands of voices around him to cry Get him, go kill him, swang with his sword , stick go ! . The young man did not listen to warnings that reveals the danger : the body does not stones , during the site heroes - like you, and was petrified . The initiation rite in which the suffering of a binding part of the ritual of testing allows the understanding of the magical essence of the prohibition looking back . MAGICAL logic respectful direction of movement is particularly strong in relation to the conduct of the world of demons and the dead . From hero - boys are required to be deaf to the daunting threats of death and temporarily overcome evil by not allowing him to touch his terrible content . The temptation in the case of the two brothers shows failed , while the third attempt brothers usually releases the youngest brother or sister . In fairy tales elements of a rite of passage blended with elements of Remembrance lapot . Silence is one way of preventing the evil demon in a series of ritual acts , thoughts Penina Mezei . Violation of the prohibition of speech allows the communication of man with a demon , and abolishes protection from him . In fairy tales , this ritual obligations lost connection with specific rituals and turned into a motive of testing . The duration of the ban is extended in the spirit of poetic genre in years . Dvanadestorica brothers , to twelve for saving haunted girls , silent for almost seven years, but eleven does not take an oath and petrified ; twelfth brother died three times , defeat the dragon , throw an egg at a crystal mountain , and save the brothers ( Penina Mezei : 115 ) . Petrify in fairy tales is not necessarily caused by fear , or impatience uneducated hero . Self-sacrificing hero resolves accident of his friend's seemingly irrational moves, but he knows that he will be petrified if it is to warn them in advance , he avoids talking . As his friend persuaded him to explain his actions , he is petrified ( Penina Mezei : 129 ) . Petrified friends can save only the blood of a child , and his " borrower " Strikes sacrifice their own child and revives his rescuers . A child is a sacrificial object that provides its innocence and purity of the sacrificial gift of power that allows the return of the forces of life.

Why long for heaven up there we don't see, When there's heaven down here that's so lovely. Why mind the hell up there we can't fathom, When there's hell down here that's worse than Sodom.

Man is not victim of environment that due to world's evil, life is torment. It's man who victimized environment that due to man's evil, world is lament.

Some talk about how to uplift the poor; others walk about lifting up the poor. Some talk about how to fight corruption; others walk about fighting corruption. Some just see mess as part of existence: "Rushing or dragging makes no difference." Others see mess like that of ship sinking: "Acting fast can save many from drowning.

God designed love to make the world living; so if world's dying, we know what's missing. When missing, God designed another thing: "This one is hatred-to do repairing." Oh, how the world treats hatred as beastly; yet sans hatred, who'll fight depravity? Hatred used to correct is celestial; but when used to oppress, it is bestial.

* * * Thus, General Washington gets emotional and delivers a rare poetic speech to his troops: This army, the main American Army, will certainly not suffer itself to be outdone by their northern brethren.… Let it never be said, that in a day of action, you turned your backs on the foe. Let the enemy no longer triumph. They brand you with ignominious epithets. Will you patiently endure that reproach? Will you suffer the wounds given to your country to go unrevenged? Will you resign your parents, wives, children and friends to be the wretched vassals of a proud, insulting foe—and your own necks to the halter? General Howe … has left us no choice but Conquest or Death. Nothing then remains, but nobly to contend for all that is dear to us. Every motive that can touch the human breast calls us to the most vigorous exertions. Our dearest rights, our dearest friends, and our own lives, honor, glory and even shame, urge us to the fight. And my fellow soldiers! When an opportunity presents, be firm, be brave—show yourselves men, and victory is yours.

Once, I was flying as usual. Some people called me ill. I, too, for a while, Believed them... Then I saw, Their sophisticated cage!

The Masterpiece? Head down, she obeys... Her mind, a virgin canvas, World paints its own strokes.

Milo's Way- A Haiku Strength sought in small steps, Like Milo's calf on shoulders, Grow with steady will.

BLACK SHEEP - A HAIKU Midst a starlit dance, The moon emerges alone, Thus she steals the show.

As a contrast to the Bach of pure music I present the Bach who is a poet and painter in sound. In his music and in his texts he expresses the emotional as well as the descriptive with great vitality and clarity. Before all else he aims at rendering the pictorial in lines of sound. He is even more tone painter than tone poet. His art is nearer to that of Berlioz than to that of Wagner. If the text speaks of drifting mists, of boisterous winds, of roaring rivers, of waves that ebb and flow, of leaves falling from the tree, of bells that toll for the dying, of the confident faith that walks with firm steps or the weak faith that falters, of the proud who will be debased and the humble who will be exalted, of Satan rising in rebellion, of angels on the clouds of heaven, then one sees and hears all this in his music. Bach has, in fact, his own language of sound. There are in his music constantly recurring rhythmical motives expressing peaceful bliss, lively joy, intense pain, or sorrow sublimely borne. The impulse to express poetic and pictorial concepts is the essence of music. It addresses itself to the listener's creative imagination and seeks to kindle in him the feelings and visions with which the music was composed. But this it can do only if the person who uses the language of sound possesses the mysterious faculty of rendering thoughts with a superior clarity and precision. In this respect Bach is the greatest of the great.

A poet writing poetry, an artist creating calligraphy. An author scripting mastery with an encyclopedia intellect. From from a derelict's viewpoint, that can only be admired by reading the works. To understand the man, you must understand his work.

Ushakova (1994: 154) puts it more poetically: ‘Second language is looking into the windows cut out by the first language.’ Hence, ignoring or denying the positive influence of the L1 is seen as counterproductive. What is more, from a motivational point of view, referencing the learners’ L1 validates their linguistic and cultural identity, while proscribing it might be considered a form of linguistic imperialism.

Bitterness * Broken men Walk away from broken sons Who stab them in the gut In anger And bitterness For crimes they are both not guilty of Life is a bitch sometimes ------------------------- 2014©rassool jibraeel snyman – 16/5/2014 “The Poetic Assassin

Look at this body! What a beautiful and natural valley of a body. Luscious, soft, all skin on skin, and carved in the most artistic way ever.

Climb That Mountain (Poem) *** There is a mountain placed before us. It's wide, big; high above the clouds. With no way around it; no choice about it. Just to climb it, even through low sighs. Some mountains, we choose. Often those that we pursue are easy to climb. They leave no bruise; we step on them like crumbs. No sweat, no fuse. But also no valuable lesson. Just an excuse after an excuse. There are harsh sessions on the high mountain. Hard lessons on the big mountain. No breaks, no fountains. Just hardships and rough times. No awards, no rewards. Just emotional, mental tides and fines. Fine, we usually accept the challenge. Out of options, we welcome the change. An exchange of comfort for caution. We become deranged for family. For our children, friends, even lovers. Some lovers who may become an enemy. We become a destiny with no back covers. With our back against the wall. Our back totally exposed to all. But, step by step, day by day, with our veins, we climb up but not in vain. Some days we want to go back to our fortress. Some days we only see black, no success. But, after a while, mounting in grime, we forget about the pain. The hardships start to fade. We start to familiarise the pain with the trees. We accept the bushes and rocks as home. We follow the footsteps of animals and bees; looking for shortcuts to roam. Seeking solace in the shade of what we see. We seek and become one with isolation. In isolation, we start to rely on ourselves more. We learn to love all our sores; to trust our own instincts. We become stronger and sharper in senses. And the stronger we become, the faster we mount in fun. In the end, we reach the top. Out of it all, we come out unbreakable, alive. Tired but, surely, revived.

The child starts out by being attached to his mother as 'the ground of all being'. He feels helpless and needs the all-enveloping love of mother. He then turns to father as the new center of his affections, father being a guiding principle for thought and action; in this stage he is motivated by the need to acquire father's praise, and to avoid his displeasure. In the stage of full maturity he has freed himself from the person of mother and of father as protecting and commanding powers; he has established the motherly and fatherly principles in himself. He has become his own father and mother; he is father and mother. In the history of the human race we see -and can anticipate- the same development: from the beginning of the love for God as the helpless attachment to a mother Goddess, through the obedient attachment to a fatherly God, to a mature stage where God ceases to be an outside power, where man has incorporated the principles of love and justice into himself, where he has become one with God, and eventually, to a point where he speaks of God only in a poetic, symbolic sense. From these considerations it follows that the love for God cannot be separated from the love for one's parents. If a person does not emerge from incestuous attachment to mother, clan, nation, if he retains the childish dependence on a punishing and rewarding father, or any other authority, he cannot develop a more mature love for God; then his religion is that of the earlier phase of religion, in which God was experienced as an all-protective mother or a punishing-rewarding father. In contemporary religion we find all the phases, from the earliest and most primitive development to the highest, still present. The word 'God' denotes the tribal chief as well as the 'absolute Nothing'.

Don't wait on anyone to tell you what you are worth. You have to be the first person who knows what you are worth and who can say what you are worth.

If you are grateful for where you are, you have to respect the rode that got you there. We must appreciate all that we survive, the small, the medium and the monumental. Find gratitude in your life story, Wake up every morning and say to yourself, I made it here from where I started and I am so proud of that. When we do this, we bless ourselves and feed ourselves with the love to flourish and keep going, no matter where we come from or what we have been through.

If you are grateful for where you are, you have to respect the rode that got you there. We must appreciate all that we survive, the small, the medium and the monumental. Find gratitude in your life story. Wake up every morning and say to yourself I made it here from where I started and I am so proud of that. When we do this, we bless ourselves and feed ourselves with the love to flourish and keep going no matter where we come from or what we have been through.

The story needed to be told that how Curvaceous world like as a harmonic words in the ocean.

Like sun shine over the hills! rise and shine before sunset, do what expected on you,yes that you love to do the most world waiting it.

to see you shine brighter on the tip of that hill, is a cosmic deal to me

I’ve travelled miles to be here; to come and reach out to you. But right now, I’ll put my back towards this place which hems your shame. And I’ll send my feet towards the place where I think of you day in and day out. Where my thoughts dwell in sorrow, like a turnip growing within thorns. And I'll continue to do so until you find a word to say to me.

Go with me into the book. I dare you. It's safe there.

Nature’s cycle, a poetic reflection of life’s eternal dance.

Hope lies not in the light at tunnel's end; it's in the fact our life doesn't yet end. Till we can talk, walk, see, and comprehend, hope goes on for all things we want happen.

There's no succession without successor. There's no oppression without oppressor. There's no narration without narrator. There's no creation without Creator.

If you don't like my face, you go to God; before my own mirror, nothing seems odd. If you don't like my guts, you come to me, so I can fix myself as well as thank thee.

Have you been caring to all your children? Will they take you than be at old folks' den? Will they feel honored pushing your wheelchair? Will hearts break when your breath runs out of spare?

Don't live each day as if it were your last, for you might break your back and breathe your last. Rather, live as if a hundred days left; oh, not so pressured, of tension bereft. We do work to live, not do live to work; always rushing is not fun but a joke. Live each day not so stressed nor so relaxed; it's in balanced way where joy's at the max.

Beauty can be born out of not only love, but also pain and other motivations.

The clear, peaceful mind,the mind runs for Creativity,for a pouring river song,the mind meets the Muse,in such a transcendental junction,o yes! Creativity blooms in abundance,the world enlightens.

Ye just hit the Life with your Old Dream!