A Quote by Abdul Kalam

DONT DECLARE HOLIDAY ON MY DEATH, INSTEAD WORK AN EXTRA DAY, IF U LOVE ME — © Abdul Kalam
DONT DECLARE HOLIDAY ON MY DEATH, INSTEAD WORK AN EXTRA DAY, IF U LOVE ME
If you have a work instead of a job, every day is holiday
I dont fear death so much as I fear its prologues: loneliness, decrepitude, pain, debilitation, depression, senility. After a few years of those, I imagine death presents like a holiday at the beach.
The word ‘holiday’ comes from ‘holy day’ and holy means ‘exalted and worthy of complete devotion.’ By that definition, all days are holy. Life is holy. Atheists have joy every day of the year, every holy day. We have the wonder and glory of life. We have joy in the world before the lord is come. We’re not going for the promise of life after death; we’re celebrating life before death…For atheists, everything in the world is enough and every day is holy. Every day is an atheist holiday. It’s a day that we’re alive.
Labor Day is a holiday honoring those who work for a living. Laborious Day is a lesser known holiday honoring those who cannot stop talking about their work.
We often hear Islamists declare, 'We love death as much as you people in the west love life.' Well, if we're going to now celebrate and jubilate in the death of Bin Laden, I have to say, I think that comes eerily close to mimicking the likes of the Islamists. And that gives me the creeps.
I work everyday, but every day is a holiday for me because I enjoy my work.
I've just tried to do everything I can personally to be the best quarterback I can be, whether it's doing extra work for my rehab, extra work in the film room, on the board, extra work out on the field with my drops and footwork.
dont undress my love you might find a mannequin dont undress the mannequin you might find love. shes long ago forgotten me. hes trying on a new hat and looks more the coquette then ever. she is a child and a mannequin and death. i can't hate that. she didnt do anything unusual. I only wanted her to.
I dont run much on roads any more but instead stick to the trails around where I live in West Sussex. Im surrounded by hills and so love doing long loops over the South Downs. Give me mud, puddles, flinty paths and nettles any day.
Thanksgiving and Christmas then, for us who love God, are not mere time outs from work days. They are a celebration of the gift of work itself, days on which we celebrate work by declaring our freedom. In a manner of speaking we announce that on this one day we may rest from our work, and without pressure or guilt, we may be glad. A holiday is a holy day-meant for rejoicing in God.
This is as good a time as any to comment on what I think has grown into an abuse. Congress makes holidays and every time there isa holiday it is the practice for one department to telephone over to another department and say we are going to have an extra holiday in this department and what is your department going to do about it.... If it comes on Saturday, they want a holiday on Friday, and of course they couldn't come back and travel on Sunday and so they want another holiday on Monday to get back on.
You may have to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the first day and the second day, but the third day will be less and each day after, until one day you will realize that you have forgiven completely. And then one day you will pray for his wholeness and give him over to me so that my love will burn from his life every vestige of corruption.
I dont play golf or tennis, I dont ski, I dont snowboard. If you love what you do, you never get enough of it.
I think the perception of me can be, you know, confused. But thats only because people only see that side of me when Im at work, in front of the camera. So they dont see Miranda at home; they dont see behind the scenes. They see the glamour of it all but they dont see Miranda standing barefoot in a dirty old house.
Dont use all-or-nothing thinking. Take each day as its own day, and dont worry about it if you mess up one day. The most important thing you can do is just get back up on the horse.
Let us begin this letter, this prelude to an encounter, formally, as a declaration, in the old-fashioned way: I love you. You do not know me (although you have seen me, smiled at me). I know you (although not so well as I would like. I want to be there when your eyes flutter open in the morning, and you see me, and you smile. Surely this would be paradise enough?). So I do declare myself to you now, with pen set to paper. I declare it again: I love you.
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