Rubbish Inspirational Quotes

You will never be satisfied with anything less than the highest you can attain.

I thought how you can never tell just by looking at them what they were thinking or what was happening In their lives. Even when you got daft people or drunk people on buses, people that went on stupid and shouted rubbish or tried to tell you all about themselves, you could never really tell about them either... I knew if somebody looked at me, they'd know nothing about me, either.

The only thing that separates success from failure is one last attempt. Try one more time and you will get lucky.

People think that whatever comes out of the mouth of a wise man is the choicest gem, sometime it's utter stupidity and rubbish

Complexity looks at simplicity and laughs at it for being too simple. But this is stupidity. Which is more valuable? The drop of pure rose oil or the cologne that mixes that one drop with many other things in order to make it affordable enough? It takes 60,000 roses to make a single ounce of rose oil. In simplicity there is value, there is meaning. Complexity is what happens when value and meaning are watered down. Don’t play games with pure-hearted people; they don’t need your rubbish. And don’t try to water them down so you can afford them.

I am sorry, I am not a writer. I simply put my thoughts on paper. Those helped by them call them a book and me a writer. Those who are not helped call it rubbish and me a fool. Both have reason.

There is such a thing as emotional rubbish; it is produced in the factories of the mind. It consists of pain that has long since passed and is no longer useful. It consists of precautions that were important in the past, but that serve no purpose in the present.

Life is an opportunity for us to contribute something that outlasts us and makes the world a better place.

Waste of time," said the leper. "There's a dozen or more beggars who come here every day, pretending to be cripples, hiring themselves out to the holy men. A couple of drachmas and they'll swear they've been crippled or blind for years then stage a bloody miraculous recovery. Holy men? Healers? Don't make me laugh." "But this man is different," said Christ. "I remember him," said the blind man. "Jesus. He come here on the sabbath, like a fool. The priests wouldn't let him heal anyone on sabbath. He should've known that." "But he did heal someone," said the lame man. "Old Hiram. You remember that. He told him to take up his bed and walk." "Bloody rubbish," said the blind man. "Hiram went as far as the temple gate, then he lay down and went on begging. Old Sarah told me. He said what was the use of taking his living away? Begging was the only thing he knew how to do. You and your blether about goodness," he said, turning to Christ, "where's the goodness in throwing an old man out into the street without a trade, without a home, without a penny? Eh? That Jesus is asking too much of people." "But he was good," said the lame man. "I don't care what you say. You could feel it, you could see it in his eyes." "I never saw it," said the blind man.

You should feel good about yourself. Don't get down in a pit all about yourself, and how much you suck. 'Cause that rubbish ain't true. There's a reason you're the way you are, and who knows, anything can happen to anybody, so, never go down in the pit, and, if you do, you better get yourself poor self out of there, RIGHT AWAY.

{Letter from Fawcett to the great Robert Ingersoll, 1894} I do so wish, that, in all these big questions, literary men would take you more for a guide than they do, or seem to do. You have, of course, an immense constituency; but your love of letters and your deeply poetic spirit render you worthy of a far greater reverence and respect from writers than it seems to me that you receive. I want the brilliancy of your thought to penetrate our literature profoundly and permanently. But of course that will come. The younger generation of writers cannot escape you any more than the air they breath. You will, indeed, be the air they breath, -- and hence, in many cases, if not all, their inspiration. Especially should the poets love you and sit at your feet. If you die before you see the change, I believe that those who now love you and survive you will see how much of the mere pietistic rubbish in modern poetry has been gradually yet surely swept away by the mighty besom of your fearless and noble intellect.

It usually takes just a few negative comments to kill a person’s dream. Don’t speak these negative comments to others and don’t listen to those who do. Don’t let people interrupt you and tell you that you can’t do something. If you have a dream that you’re passionate about, you must follow it. When others can’t do something themselves, they’re going to tell you that you can’t do it either. Rubbish! These people are simply speaking from within the boundaries of their own limitations. Don’t let weak minds convince you that you aren’t strong enough and smart enough. You are. Surround yourself with people who help strengthen you…those who see greatness in you, even when you don’t see it in yourself.

Jeffers stretched up on his toes to see the back of the mob, “But James, we’re doing all this for you... We need this gold to build a united Alba. We need it to fund an army and to forge decisive leadership.” His voice was almost plaintive. “We want to hand your generation a real empire rather than just a loose collection of competing Families. We want to give you the foundations to achieve glory! What could possibly be wrong with that?” “Rubbish!” cried Tristan, not about to let honey-coated nonsense dissolve the glue that bound his army. “Absolute codswallop!” he let his calm facade slip for the first time that day. “What you’re actually trying to do is to build a legacy that you don’t deserve! You want to swan around as an armchair General for the next twenty years while your precious army strives and dies for hollow victories that do nothing more than feed your ego! And do you know who strives and dies in this picture?” He waved one arm at the figures behind him. “We do! We here in this alley, along with other young men and women just like us!” Tristan watched Jeffers from the corner of his eye, as he shook his fist towards deGroot, “Well we’re not having it! If you want us to fight and die, then we’re going to fight now, and we’re going to fight you! So come on down deGroot and take a swing!

She'd become scarily addicted to that show - it seemed she always needed to be addicted to something, and if now it was cooking calorie-laden seventies-inspired meals like her mother's and watching vacuously rubbish game shows, surely these were better than her previous vices?

I stand condemned before the court of human justice. The odds are not in my favor. The judge is about to give its verdict - guilty as charged. My detractors are ready to roll out the drums, happy for my downfall. My friends' faces are frozen, ashamed that they know me. As the judge prepares to give his verdict, MERCY - a friend of the court and the de facto judge - springs to his feet. He requests for the charge sheet and tears it into shreds. MERCY takes up the judge's seat, sets aside the pending judgment, and pronounces me 'discharged and acquitted'. Wow! MERCY rubbishes the credible charges and averts the certain judgment. Justice operates on facts, MERCY seeks the truth. Justice sees the past, MERCY sees into the future. If you fully understand MERCY, you must be a saint. Because, I don't. But I love it when God demonstrates it. I am even not ashamed to ask for MERCY.

Everything becomes rubbish in the end. We sometimes wonder if people weren’t invented as an extra-quick way of making rubbish.

Search out the pretensions, the rubbish, the gloss, the whitewash, the emulsions of life covering the real feeling, real examination, real creativity

Don't read their rubbish... Read mine ☺️

What, an eye for an eye?” she scoffed. “‘If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear’? What rubbish.

She could choose to be nothing but a moth -eaten rag fit only for the rubbish bin, or she could let God work her into lace, the holes left by the pain and the sorrow every bit as beautiful as the gossamer threads of faith and love that held her together.