Rs Thomas Quotes

You have to imagine a waiting that is not impatient because it is timeless.

To all light things I compared her: to a snowflake, a feather

I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while, and gone my way and forgotten it. But that was the pearl of great price, the one field that had treasure in it. I realize now that I must give all that I have to possess it. Life is not hurrying on to a receeding future, nor hankering after an imagined past. It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush, to a brightness that seemed as transitory as your youth once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

There are cries in the dark at night As owls answer the moon

Children's Song We live in our own world, A world that is too small For you to stoop and enter Even on hands and knees, The adult subterfuge. And though you probe and pry With analytic eye, And eavesdrop all our talk With an amused look, You cannot find the centre Where we dance, where we play, Where life is still asleep Under the closed flower, Under the smooth shell Of eggs in the cupped nest That mock the faded blue Of your remoter heaven.

Seated at table - no need for the fracture of the room's silence; noiselessly they conversed.

No Through Road All in vain, I will cease now My long absorption with the plough, With the tame and the wild creatures And man united with the earth. I have failed after many seasons To bring truth to birth, And nature's simple equations In the mind's precincts do not apply. But where to turn? Earth endures After the passing, necessary shame Of winter, and the old lie Of green places beckons me still From the new world, ugly and evil, That men pry for in truth's name.

I can’t speak my own language - Iesu, All those good words; And I outside them.

From the body at its meal’s end and its messmate whose meal is beginning, Gloria. From the early and late cloud, beautiful and deadly as the mushroom we are forbidden to eat, Gloria. From the stars that are but as dew and the viruses outnumbering the star clusters, Gloria. From those waiting at the foot of the helix for the rope-trick performer to come down, Gloria. Because you are not there When I turn, but are in the turning, Gloria. Because it is not I who look but I who am being looked through, Gloria. Because the captive has found the liberty that eluded him while he was free, Gloria. Because from the belief that nothing is nothing it follows that there must be something, Gloria. Because when we count we do not count the moment between youth and age, Gloria. And because, when we are overcome, we are overcome by nothing, Gloria.

The world is in the grip of economic volatility, political uncertainty, and environmental decay.

According to the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), the developed world is already using the equivalent of one and half times the Earth’s finite resources.

We are long-term inspired, delivering in the short term.

focus on maximizing our strength, not our profit.

Rethink Your Playing Field

Short-term metrics can destroy long-term opportunities

Metrics are where the rubber hits the road.

In 2013, almost 40% of the world’s population – more than 2.7 billion people – is online. A decade earlier only 12% was. Today, the mobile phone penetration rate stands at 96% globally,

invest in owning the future

Increasingly, talented employees want more than a paycheck and the chance to do what they’re told to the best of their abilities. Instead, they want jobs that are both exciting and meaningful. They want to work for organizations that care about more than money. They want to work for organizations that are preparing to shape the future – and which encourage employees to find ways to shape the organization itself to do this.

But that is all in the future. These days, the local newspaper publishes an endless stream of stories about drug arrests, shootings, drunk-driving crashes, the stupidity of local politicians, and the lamentable surplus of “affordable housing.” Like similar places, the town is up to its eyeballs in wrathful bitterness against public workers. As in, Why do they deserve a decent life when the rest of us have no chance at all? It’s every man for himself here in a “competition for crumbs,” as a Fall River friend puts it. For all that, it is an exemplary place in one respect: as a vantage point from which to contemplate the diminishing opportunities of modern American life. This is the project of Fall River Herald News columnist Marc Munroe Dion, one of the last remaining practitioners of the working-class style that used to be such a staple of journalism in this country. Here in Fall River, the sarcastic, hard-boiled sensibility makes a last stand against the indifference of the affluent world. Dion pours his acid derision on the bike paths that Fall River has (of course) built for the yet-to-arrive creative class. He cheers for the bravery of Wal-Mart workers who, it appears, are finally starting to stand up to their bosses. He watches a 2012 Obama-Romney debate and thinks of all the people he knows who would be considered part of Romney’s lazy 47 percent—including his own mother, a factory worker during World War II who was now “draining our country dry through the twin Ponzi schemes of Social Security and Medicare.”16 “To us, it looks as though the city is dissolving,” Dion wrote in late 2015. As the working-class apocalypse takes hold, he invites readers to remember exactly what it was they once liked about their town. “Fall River used to be a good place to be poor,” he concludes. “You didn’t need much education to work, you didn’t need much money to live and you knew everybody.” As that life has disappeared, so have the politics that actually made some kind of sense; they were an early casualty of what has happened here. Those who still care about the war of Rs and Ds, Dion writes, are practicing “political rituals that haven’t made sense since the 1980s, feathered tribesmen dancing around a god carved out of a tree trunk.”17