A Quote by Jessica Hart
Love is about needing someone, about feeling as if the day isn't quite right if they're not there. Its about knowing that, no matter how bad a day you've had, the moment you see them again or hear their voice, the world is back in its place.
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You got the hearts of lions, Good things, bad things, it doesn't matter, that's who you are... That's what carries us from here to where we are going. And everyone's talking about what we couldn't do, and what we wouldn't do and what we shouldn't do, right? You did it week after week, day after day. No matter what someone said about you. Huh, It dosen't matter what they said.
Something will come to me in the middle of the day, and I'll Voice Note it so I don't forget how I felt when the idea came about. I can hear the feeling I had when I first recorded it.
Whatever news we get about the scans, I’m not going to die when we hear it. I won’t die the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. So today, right now, well this is a wonderful day. And I want you to know how much I’m enjoying it.” I thought about that, and about Jai’s smile. I knew then. That’s the way the rest of my life would need to be lived.
Apologies; our cultural obsession with them isn't about actually being offended, or simply needing to hear, “I'm sorry.” It's not really about right or wrong. It's about wanting to throw a rock in the dark and hear something break.
Falling out of balance doesn't matter, really and truly. How we deal with that moment and how we find our way back to center, every day, again and again - that is the practice of yoga...it's about trusting that you will find your way.
If you're having a bad day the main thing on the mental side is realizing that I'm having a bad day and thinking about why and then just kind of re-prioritizing and saying, "I'm going to let myself have this bad day, but tomorrow I'm going to get back on track." That's pretty much it. We all have them. You do have to let yourself have them and then go within and figure out why you're having it and prevent it from happening again.
Men always want to die for something. For someone. I can see the appeal. You do it once and it’s done. No more worrying, not knowing, about tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I know you all think it sounds brave, but I’ll tell you something even braver. To struggle and fight for the ones you love today. And then do it all over again the next day. Every day. For your whole life. It’s not as romantic, I admit. But it takes a lot of courage to live for someone, too.
Maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. And maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.
Some of you young folks been saying to me, "Hey Pops, what you mean 'What a wonderful world'? How about all them wars all over the place? You call them wonderful? And how about hunger and pollution? That aint so wonderful either." Well how about listening to old Pops for a minute. Seems to me, it aint the world that's so bad but what we're doin' to it. And all I'm saying is, see, what a wonderful world it would be if only we'd give it a chance. Love baby, love. That's the secret, yeah. If lots more of us loved each other, we'd solve lots more problems. And then this world would be a gasser.
It’s not about what you said. It’s not about what you did. It’s not about what you love. It’s about them feeling bad about themselves.
For a moment he felt good about this. A moment or two later he felt bad about feeling good about it. Then he felt good about feeling bad about feeling good about it and satisfied, drove on into the night.
Day after day I read Freud, thinking myself to be very enlightened and scientific when, as a matter of fact, I was about as scientific as an old woman secretly poring over books about occultism, trying to tell her own fortune, and learning how to dope out the future form the lines in the palm of her hand. I don't know if I ever got very close to needing a padded cell: but if I ever had gone crazy, I think psychoanalysis would have been the one thing chiefly responsible for it.
I had spent about three months where I couldn't sing at all, so that was anxiety-provoking. But after that, I went back out. I sang for two hours in my garage one day to see if I had a voice.
Besides the obvious difference, there was not much distinction between losing a best friend and losing a lover: it was all about intimacy. One moment, you had someone to share your biggest triumphs and fatal flaws with; the next minute, you had to keep them bottled inside. One moment, you'd start to call her to tell her a snippet of news or to vent about your awful day before realizing you did not have that right anymore; the next, you could not remember the digits of her phone number.
I receive kindness every day. I love to smile when I'm out and about, and if someone smiles back, which happens about half the time, I think that's an act of kindness every couple of minutes in my day.
It's interesting when you talk to someone who has really been through something very, very terrible. They are less likely to talk about it. People who have had a bad day because their soup was cold can talk about their 'suffering' all day long.
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