Tread Your Own Path Quotes

And so, onwards... along a path of wisdom, with a hearty tread, a hearty confidence.. however you may be, be your own source of experience. Throw off your discontent about your nature. Forgive yourself your own self. You have it in your power to merge everything you have lived through- false starts, errors, delusions, passions, your loves and your hopes- into your goal, with nothing left over.

The world follows its own course. Each possesses his own thoughts, each treads his own path. So it is with your mother, and so it is with your starling. As it is with everyone. The world follows its own course.

Do not watch how other people walk their path to success or try to keep up with them. Do not give in to the herd instinct. You have your own calling. The majority take the roads well-trodden but true success is achieved by the few who refuse to follow the rule “do as I do” and independently tread their own path.

It is only you, treading in the blessed path of peace and freedom, who can bring about the true regeneration of society, and with it the true happiness of your own lives.

Advice" I must do as you do? Your way I own Is a very good way, and still, There are sometimes two straight roads to a town, One over, one under the hill. You are treading the safe and the well-worn way, That the prudent choose each time; And you think me reckless and rash to-day Because I prefer to climb. Your path is the right one, and so is mine. We are not like peas in a pod, Compelled to lie in a certain line, Or else be scattered abroad. 'T were a dull old world, methinks, my friend, If we all just went one way; Yet our paths will meet no doubt at the end, Though they lead apart today. You like the shade, and I like the sun; You like an even pace, I like to mix with the crowd and run, And then rest after the race. I like danger, and storm, and strife, You like a peaceful time; I like the passion and surge of life, You like its gentle rhyme. You like buttercups, dewy sweet, And crocuses, framed in snow; I like roses, born of the heat, And the red carnation's glow. I must live my life, not yours, my friend, For so it was written down; We must follow our given paths to the end, But I trust we shall meet--in town.

Just like rain, let it all flow incessantly until the sky clears out. Sometimes a part of me asks how is it that the ones who love the most, dearly, tenderly giving their all, find their hollow end meeting with scars that they never deserved. How is it that sometimes Life turns cold for those who sprinkle the most amount of sunshine, the hand that wipes other's pain how is that parched with betrayals and misunderstandings. But I guess it is about life lessons, how a soul grows through it all, as if the soul walks across the pyre of fire to know and eventually become its own mettle. Through it all the heart becomes more open and the mind more understanding, a unique strength of peace walks inside the very fire that rages the soul. Patience flows in through perseverance and the ashes mould in the teardrop of resilience to wear the smile of kindness. I have realised that when the worst happens to us, the soul is confronted with two choices, either to become bitter with repeating the question why or to become better with understanding the way how to walk ahead. Eventually it boils down to two simple emotions, love and hate, astonishingly born out of the same part of our mind and heart. It is a selection of either vengeance or forgiveness, not an easy choice to make especially when we are at our most vulnerable self. Whatever we choose becomes our reality, as if we get soaked in it, and somehow Time runs by. And when years pass by and we look back and see the path, and reflect on our choice we understand the meaning of both the choices, to some they take the shape of peace and to some they take the shape of agony, but looking closely we can see that the agony is the pathway leading to peace, forgiveness is the destination, sooner or later we all reach that space to find it in us to forgive, some in years while some in lifetimes. And perhaps, that is why we all undergo all that happens to us, chained in our Karma. So even when Life seems unfair, give it your all. Love with all your soul and no matter what comes by, don't stop walking along this shore of Time, because no matter how long it takes, you will find your Home. And when Life puts up a question as to why some who broke your soul find pleasure so easy, remind yourself the difference between pleasure and peace and don't forget to acknowledge the fact that perhaps you have paid your Karmic debt in full while theirs might just be beginning. So break if you must, but remind yourself about the gift of Life and Love every passing moment that breathes like a dream in an illusion of Time. Let your Faith walk hand in hand with you as you tread softly towards your destination, because no matter the years or the lifetimes, someday the sky shall be clear for the rainbow of your soul to smile in the Justice of Him, who knows all, sees all, feels all and does all.

Remember, son, how she went through many dangers for you while you were in her womb. When she dies, bury her in the same grave with me. 5 “Through all your days, son, keep the Lord in mind, and do not seek to sin or to transgress the commandments. Perform righteous deeds all the days of your life, and do not tread the paths of wickedness. 6   b For those who act with fidelity, all who practice righteousness, will prosper in their affairs.* 7 “Give alms from your possessions. Do not turn your face away from any of the poor, so that God’s face will not be turned away from you.c 8 Give in proportion to what you own. If you have great wealth, give alms out of your abundance; if you have but little, do not

Life is for the brave, Kim. You have to chase the life you want and grab it. So if you really want Tait, and I believe you do, then make it happen! Don’t be defined by anyone else; don’t worry about Janine, or whoever. Just be yourself, because one day you’ll blink and it will be too late to tread your own path. You might find you’re walking the route that someone else has ploughed for you.

If neither communication nor silence will work once you learn of my existence, you’re left with just one option.” In the long silence that followed, the two flames went out. There was no wind, and the dark silence turned thick as asphalt, connecting sky and desert into a murky whole. At last Shi Qiang uttered one word in the darkness: “Fuck!” “Extrapolate that option out to the billions upon billions of stars and hundreds of millions of civilizations, and there’s your picture,” Luo Ji said, nodding in the darkness. “That’s... that’s really dark.” “The real universe is just that black.” Luo Ji waved a hand, feeling the darkness as if stroking velvet. “The universe is a dark forest. Every civilization is an armed hunter stalking through the trees like a ghost, gently pushing aside branches that block the path and trying to tread without sound. Even breathing is done with care. The hunter has to be careful, because everywhere in the forest are stealthy hunters like him. If he finds other life—another hunter, an angel or a demon, a delicate infant or a tottering old man, a fairy or a demigod—there’s only one thing he can do: open fire and eliminate them. In this forest, hell is other people. An eternal threat that any life that exposes its own existence will be swiftly wiped out. This is the picture of cosmic civilization. It’s the explanation for the Fermi Paradox.” Shi Qiang lit another cigarette, if only to have a bit of light. “But in this dark forest, there’s a stupid child called humanity, who has built a bonfire and is standing beside it shouting, ‘Here I am! Here I am!

A person has to tread his own path, Morgana. Life will set things to pulling you in all directions, tugging you this way and that. Tread your own path

Believe in the beauty of your own journey, for it is the path that only you can tread and the story that only you can tell.

the white scales from Tobit’s eyes, so that he might again see with his own eyes God’s light; and to give Sarah, the daughter of Raguel, as a wife to Tobiah, the son of Tobit, and to rid her of the wicked demon Asmodeus. For it fell to Tobiah’s lot* to claim her before any others who might wish to marry her. At that very moment Tobit turned from the courtyard to his house, and Raguel’s daughter Sarah came down from the upstairs room. III. PREPARATION FOR THE JOURNEY TOBIT 4 A Father’s Instruction. 1 That same day Tobit remembered the money he had deposited in trust with Gabael at Rages in Media. 2 He thought to himself, “Now that I have asked for death, why should I not call my son Tobiah and let him know about this money before I die?” 3 So he called his son Tobiah; and when he came, he said to him:* “Son, when I die, give me a decent burial. Honor your mother, and do not abandon her as long as she lives. Do whatever pleases her, and do not grieve her spirit in any way.a 4 Remember, son, how she went through many dangers for you while you were in her womb. When she dies, bury her in the same grave with me. 5 “Through all your days, son, keep the Lord in mind, and do not seek to sin or to transgress the commandments. Perform righteous deeds all the days of your life, and do not tread the paths of

You can't heal the people you love, You can't make choices for them, You can't rescue them, You can't promise them that they won't journey alone, You can loan them your map, But the trip is theirs. You can lend them strength when theirs runs thin, You can light the way when darkness creeps in. You can offer love, a hand to hold tight, But their path's their own, through day and night. They'll navigate highs, they'll face the lows, Their journey's unique, the way it goes. You'll stand as guide, a source of care, But in their footsteps, they'll learn to fare. Your support, a beacon along their track, A guiding presence, to help them back. Yet the road they tread, the course they chart, It's theirs to walk, it's from their heart. They'll find their way, through wind and rain, With lessons learned, they'll ease the pain. Your love's a compass, in the journey they're on, But healing's theirs, when the night turns to dawn.

I share this so that it may be of some benefit to you in your soul progression. Maybe one day it may be easier for us to reach God than others who have come before us with no map and have had to suffer more, to carve out a pathway. May our Path be easier, for we stand on the shoulders of the giants who came before us, who bravely and humbly ventured into the unknown, and in whose steps we can now tread more lightly. Amen. Both Teresa and John had keys to share, but these keys were bound in religious doctrines and aspects of their childhood wounding. Once these outer layers were dissolved, the gold of their souls’ wisdom, given to them by God but then filtered through their wounds, was easily apparent, and with their help and my own gifts, all three of us could transcribe the purity of what part of this Pathway to God is all about.

Of course, my fundamentals may not work for everyone. A beautiful aspect of the human race is our endless variety. Like maple leaves and snowflakes, there are no two of us alike. Therefore, while my tactics involving the cultivation of lush facial hair and the consumption of pork products, as well as those derived from beef, may not be exactly the steps of the path you might tread on your own way to “delicious living,” perhaps my techniques will at least inspire you to forge your own discipline, providing you with the necessary skills to blaze your own trail.

The easier way is to find the path within you. Then you can do anything; you can teach yourself. I can act as a guide by pointing you in the directions that worked for me, but you must take your own journey because no two Artists ever tread the same path. Artists create. That’s what it means to be an Artist, and part of that is creating your own way.

You do not make your own cross, although unbelief is a master carpenter at cross-making; neither are you permitted to choose your own cross, although self-will wants to be lord and master. But your cross is prepared and appointed for you by divine love, and you must cheerfully accept it; you are to take up the cross as your chosen badge and burden, and not to stand complaining. This night Jesus bids you submit your shoulder to His easy yoke. Do not kick at it in petulance, or trample on it in pride, or fall under it in despair, or run away from it in fear, but take it up like a true follower of Jesus. Jesus was a cross-bearer; He leads the way in the path of sorrow. Surely you could not desire a better guide! And if He carried a cross, what nobler burden would you desire? The Via Crucis is the way of safety; fear not to tread its thorny paths. Beloved, the cross is not made of feathers or lined with velvet; it is heavy and galling to disobedient shoulders; but it is not an iron cross, though your fears have painted it with iron colors; it is a wooden cross, and a man can carry it, for the Man of Sorrows tried the load. Take up your cross, and by the power of the Spirit of God you will soon be so in love with it that like Moses you would not exchange the reproach of Christ for all the treasures of Egypt. Remember that Jesus carried it; remember that it will soon be followed by the crown, and the thought of the coming weight of glory will greatly lighten the present heaviness of trouble. May the Lord help you bow your spirit in submission to the divine will before you fall asleep tonight, so that waking with tomorrow’s sun, you may go forth to the day’s cross with the holy and submissive spirit that is fitting for a follower of the Crucified.