Sharpen Your Tools Quotes

Treat your work as a refuge—an oasis of control and creative satisfaction in the midst of the bad stuff. Don’t beat yourself up if you’re not on fire creatively every day—give yourself credit if you show up for work and make even a small amount of progress. When you put down your tools for the day, you may even see your personal situation with a fresh eye. POVERTY

Practice your skills; sharpen your tools; do the best job you can.

Success is a tricky thing... I read somewhere that if you had nine hours to chop down a tree; you must take eight hours to sharpen your tool.

Did you, like, google me or something?” She frowned. “I don’t know that word.” “You looked me up,” he said. “Almost like you had some interest in me.” She wrinkled her nose. “I have an interest in not making you a new set of clothes every other day. I have an interest in you not smelling so bad and walking around my island in smouldering rags.” “Oh, yeah.” Leo grinned. “You’re really warming up to me.” Her face got even redder. “You are the most insufferable person I have ever met! I was only returning a favour. You fixed my fountain.” “That?” Leo laughed. The problem had been so simple he’d almost forgotten about it. One of the bronze satyrs had been turned sideways and the water pressure was off, so it started making an annoying ticking sound, jiggling up and down and spewing water over the rim of the pool. He’d pulled out a couple of tools and fixed it in about two minutes. “That was no big deal. I don’t like it when things don’t work right.” “And the curtains across the cave entrance?” “The rod wasn’t level.” “And my gardening tools?” “Look, I just sharpened the shears. Cutting vines with a dull blade is dangerous. And the pruners needed to be oiled at the hinge, and—” “Oh, yeah,” Calypso said, in a pretty good imitation of his voice. “You’re really warming up to me.

99U’s Manage Your Day-to-Day assembles insights around four key skill sets you must master to succeed: building a rock-solid daily routine, taming your tools (before they tame you), finding focus in a distracted world, and sharpening your creative mind.

Why are we driven to use our tools so compulsively?

XXIV. And more than that - a furlong on - why, there! What bad use was that engine for, that wheel, Or brake, not wheel - that harrow fit to reel Men's bodies out like silk? With all the air Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel. XXV. Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood, Next a marsh it would seem, and now mere earth Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth, Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood Changes and off he goes!) within a rood - Bog, clay and rubble, sand, and stark black dearth. XXVI. Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim, Now patches where some leanness of the soil's Broke into moss, or substances like boils; Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils. XXVII. And just as far as ever from the end! Naught in the distance but the evening, naught To point my footstep further! At the thought, A great black bird, Apollyon's bosom friend, Sailed past, not best his wide wing dragon-penned That brushed my cap - perchance the guide I sought. XXVIII. For, looking up, aware I somehow grew, Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place All round to mountains - with such name to grace Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view. How thus they had surprised me - solve it, you! How to get from them was no clearer case. XXIX. Yet half I seemed to recognise some trick Of mischief happened to me, God knows when - In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then Progress this way. When, in the very nick Of giving up, one time more, came a click As when a trap shuts - you're inside the den. XXX. Burningly it came on me all at once, This was the place! those two hills on the right, Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight; While to the left a tall scalped mountain ... Dunce, Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce, After a life spent training for the sight! XXXI. What in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf He strikes on, only when the timbers start. XXXII. Not see? because of night perhaps? - why day Came back again for that! before it left The dying sunset kindled through a cleft: The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay, Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay, - Now stab and end the creature - to the heft!' XXXIII. Not hear? When noise was everywhere! it tolled Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears Of all the lost adventurers, my peers - How such a one was strong, and such was bold, And such was fortunate, yet each of old Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years. XXXIV. There they stood, ranged along the hillsides, met To view the last of me, a living frame For one more picture! In a sheet of flame I saw them and I knew them all. And yet Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set, And blew. 'Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.

Father, You know that I don’t do so well when I look inward, so I’m going to stop. I am relying on You to point out to me the things that I need to see. I promise to stay in Your Word. You said that Your Word was a sword—so please use it to cut me deeply. Expose those things in me that are not pleasing to You. But in doing so, please give me the grace to forsake them. I also promise to come before You daily. Your presence is like a fire. Please burn from me those things that are unpleasing to You. Melt my heart until it becomes like the heart of Jesus. Be merciful to me in these things. I also promise to stay in fellowship with Your people. You said that iron sharpens iron. I expect You to anoint the “wounds of a friend” to bring me to my senses when I’m being resistant toward You. Please use these tools to shape my life until Jesus alone is seen in me. I believe that You have given me Your heart and mind. By Your grace I am a new creation. I want that reality to be seen that the name of Jesus would be held in highest honor.

We stood up on two legs And raised our heads above golden grass He was there We sharpened stone and steel Used tools to harvest grass, beast and brother He was there We clustered together In brick and mud swarming with rats and plague He was there We built nations and mistrust Our fingers hovered over the red button He smiled Still we build To rise above the golden grass Away from the reach of his scythe When he will harvest no more

Our current relationship with technology is fraught. We feel overwhelmed and out of control. We dream of declaring “e-mail bankruptcy” or maybe “going off the grid.” But we are also addicted and entranced—constantly logging on to share our every thought, image, and idea. It’s easy to blame the tools, but the real problem is us. Rather than demonizing new technologies unnecessarily or championing them blindly, we must begin to develop a subtler sensibility. We must ask hard questions like: Why are we driven to use our tools so compulsively? What would it mean to approach e-mail and social media mindfully? How does being tethered to our devices impact our physical bodies—and even our imaginations? In this new era of technological invention, questioning how we work—which behaviors are productive and which are destructive—is an essential part of the creative process.

building a rock-solid daily routine, taming your tools (before they tame you), finding focus in a distracted world, and sharpening your creative mind.

Stick to the same tools, the same surroundings, even the same background music, so that they become associative triggers for you to enter your creative zone.

Could it be that the cannabinoid network is precisely the sort of adaptation that natural selection would favor in the evolution of a creature who survives by hunting? A brain chemical that sharpens the senses, narrows your mental focus, allows you to forget everything extraneous to the task at hand (including physical discomfort and the passage of time), and makes you hungry would seem to be the perfect pharmacological tool for man the hunter. All at once it provides the motive, the reward, and the optimal mind-set for hunting.

insights around four key skill sets you must master to succeed: building a rock-solid daily routine, taming your tools (before they tame you), finding focus in a distracted world, and sharpening your creative mind. Dedicating

You have an incredible inner guidance tool that you can use whenever you need it. Tell everyone to shut up and go away, get quiet, give yourself room to feel and think. You have all the answers inside of you. Practice sharpening your intuition, take the time to strengthen your connection to Source Energy, and trust that you know what’s best for you.

How well you do know your own mind? This is, no doubt, a sobering question. Yet it must be answered before proceeding. The utility of any tool is defined, in part, by consistency in deployment and predictability of outcome—the absence of unforeseen surprises once it is in use. A pencil sharpener whose blade engages erratically is no asset and should be culled from your tool kit. So, too, is a mind whose unseen contours hide jarring or potentially compromising impulses, memories, panics, prejudices, weaknesses, and the like.

Idle hands are the devils greatest tools. But it’ll be good to notice that the tools sharpened by idle heads. You are idle because that’s the job your mind gave you!

It’s easy to blame the tools, but the real problem is us. Rather than demonizing new technologies unnecessarily or championing them blindly, we must begin to develop a subtler sensibility.

I can see perfectly and clearly. And my glasses are still on the nightstand. I bolt upright and look around my room. Everything – every poster, every tool, every spare part, every spool of wire – I can see it all crisp and clear. I saw every strand of Mom’s hair in perfect precision. Her tired eyes. The steam rising from her mug. It should’ve all been a blurred mess of colored blobs. I should’ve had to drag my glasses on before any of my surroundings made sense. I grab my glasses and slide them on. Everything shifts out of focus. I take them off and my world sharpens. I scowl down at my frames like they’ve betrayed me somehow. Then I fumble for my cell phone and dial Porter’s number. “Alex?” “You have to do something,” I say, panicked. “I woke up and now I’m Peter freaking Parker.” “Peter who?” “I can see. Like 20/20. I don’t need my glasses anymore.” “Oh. Well, that must be a residual from Shooter Delaney. She was a sharp shooter, you know.” “Is that all you have to say?” “What do you want me to say?” “I want you to tell me how to reverse it.” There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “You want… your bad vision back?” “Yes.” “…Why?” “Because my other option is explaining to my parents how I have perfect vision all of a sudden. I’m pretty sure they won’t buy the whole ‘bitten by a radioactive spider’ thing.

Our current relationship with technology is fraught. We feel overwhelmed and out of control. We dream of declaring “e-mail bankruptcy” or maybe “going off the grid.” But we are also addicted and entranced—constantly logging on to share our every thought, image, and idea. It’s easy to blame the tools, but the real problem is us. Rather than demonizing new technologies unnecessarily or championing them blindly, we must begin to develop a subtler sensibility. We

Social media can have a profound impact on your life if you let it—but the power of any tool lies in the intentions of its user.

✓the ancient ritual of the earth; ploughing and planting, reaping and threshing. The fundamental business remains unaltered; it is only the methods and tools that science is changing. ✓If you want good roses, sharpen your knife and harden your heart. ✓much of gardening is a struggle against the fecundity of Nature ✓New words are always being born and old ones fading away. ✓Winter sunshine is a fairy wand touching everything with a strange magic. It is like the smile of a friend in time of sorrow.

The Accords were a fine idea," said Zara. "But every tool needs sharpening. The Accords require refining. Warlocks should be regulated, for instance. They are too powerful, and too independent. My father plans to suggest a registry of warlocks to the Council. Every warlock must give their information to the Clave and be tracked. If successful, it will be expanded to all Downworlders. We can't have them running around without us being able to keep tabs on them. Look what happened with Malcolm Fade." "Zara, you sound ridiculous," said Jon Cartwright, one of the older Centurions - about twenty-two, Emma would have guessed. Jace and Clary's age. The only thing Emma could remember about him was that he had a girlfriend, Marisol. "Like an ancient Council member, afraid of change." "Agreed," said Rayan. "We're students and fighters, not lawmakers. Whatever your father may be doing, it's not relevant to the Scholomance." Zara looked indignant. "It's just a registry -" "Am I the only one who's read X-Men and realizes why this is a bad idea?

I’m going to smelt us a life together. And you’re going to help me. Sharpen my tools with your insight, fuel the furnace with your passion and keep me safe from the flames with your love. We’ll display it in our first home together.’ He bent and pressed his lips to the soft place behind her ear. ‘Love,’ he murmured. ‘Is that what this is? This total inability to sleep, this horrible, churning stomach when I think about that night? This feverish sweat when I remember our one night together?’ One night. That was all her mother ever had with Nathaniel. And, for the first time, she understood how one night might have fuelled a passion that lasted twenty more years. She curled her arms even higher and breathed into his skin. ‘Yeah, stupid. That’s love.

Taking stock of this challenging new landscape, 99U’s Manage Your Day-to-Day assembles insights around four key skill sets you must master to succeed: building a rock-solid daily routine, taming your tools (before they tame you), finding focus in a distracted world, and sharpening your creative mind.