A Quote by Rabindranath Tagore
The mountain remains unmoved at its seeming defeat by the mist.
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As solid rock remains unmoved by the wind, so the wise remain unmoved by blame and praise.
When the foot of the' mountain is enveloped in mist, the mountain appears to us much loftier than it is; so also when the ground and basis of a disaster is not clear to us.
The sea ebbs and flows, but the rock remains unmoved.
As a mountain is unshaken by the wind, so the heart of a wise person is unmoved by all the changes on this earth.
It is because you have the typical American habit of seeing everything as a test. You see the mountain as your enemy and you set out to defeat it. So, naturally, the mountain fights back and it is stronger than you are. We do not see the mountain as our enemy to be conquered. The purpose of our climb is to become one with the mountain and so it lifts us up and carries us along.
The birds have vanished into the sky, and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains.
Clambering up the Cold Mountain path, The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on: The long gorge choked with scree and boulders, The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass. The moss is slippery, though there's been no rain The pine sings, but there's no wind. Who can leap the world's ties And sit with me among the white clouds?
To err is common to all mankind, but having erred he is no longer reckless nor unblest who haven fallen into evil seeks a cure, nor remains unmoved.
If the extrovert is trying to "cheer up" the introvert - extroverts are programmed to seek social rewards! - he or she may feel like a failure if the introvert remains unmoved.
Everyone just keeps on disappearing. Some things vanish, like they were cut away. Others fade slowly into the mist. And all that remains is a desert.
Whoever is devoid of the capacity to wonder, whoever remains unmoved, whoever cannot contemplate or know the deep shudder of the soul in enchantment, might just as well be dead for he has already closed his eyes upon life.
There in the mist, enormous, majestic, silent and terrible, stood the Great Wall of China. Solitarily, with the indifference of nature herself, it crept up the mountain side and slipped down to the depth of the valley.
Live free, child of the mist,- and with respect to knowledge we are allchildren of the mist.
Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?
Enveloped in a common mist, we seem to walk in clearness ourselves, and behold only the mist that enshrouds others.
It is defeat that turns bone to flint; it is defeat that turns gristle to muscle; it is defeat that makes men invincible. Do not then be afraid of defeat. You are never so near to victory as when defeated in a good cause.
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