The door you open to give love is the very one through which love arrives.
My hair is a wild, untamable beast! I like letting it grow; my bangs grow whatever way they want and I kind of follow their rule. So side bangs, poof bangs - it's kind of unpredictable.
I have a scar on my forehead and the bangs were an attempt to cover that. Life sort of pushed a hair change on me, which has actually been really fun to play with. It does add a little bit of maintenance, but I have a teeny-tiny flat iron that I bought on Amazon for $20 and that has been my lifesaver. Even if all I do to get out the door is flat iron my bangs, I feel like I'm good to go.
Without love a man is just a body, an empty temple without the deity. With love the deity arrives, the temple is no more empty. That's why love gives such fullness, such deep contentment, such tremendously overflowing joy. Remain in love and let love be the door to the divine.
There have been bangs in the past. There will be bangs in the future. We may live in an endless universe.
It may be that we live in an endless universe, both in space and in time. And there've been Bangs in the past, and there will be Bangs in the future.
Greet what arrives, escort what leaves and rush upon loss of contact
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life. Love arrives and in its train come ecstasies old memories of pleasure ancient histories of pain. Yet if we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls. We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love's light we dare be brave And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.
And we certainly don't have full conversations on cellphones. You know? Usually the reception is so bad, but it's only bad on your side. The person talking to you has no clue. They're just rambling on and on. You've got your finger jammed in your ear, you're shushing people on the streets. You're ducked behind a dumpster so you can hear about your friend's new hair cut. What about the bangs are they shorter?! Are the bangs shorter?! The bangs!
Sometimes fate or life or whatever you want to call it, leaves a door a little open and you walk through it. But sometimes it locks the door and you have to find the key, or pick the lock, or knock the damn thing down. And sometimes, it doesn’t even show you the door, and you have to build it yourself.
When people keep repeating
That you'll never fall in love
When everybody keeps retreating
But you can't seem to get enough
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart.
Chance arrives unannounced. It emerges, and when it leaves, we are lucky if the changes it has produced are only external.
All around you, people will be tiptoeing through life, just to arrive at death safely. But dear children, do not tiptoe. Run, hop, skip, or dance, just don't tiptoe.
As the fly bangs against the window attempting freedom while the door stands open, so we bang against death ignoring heaven.
Love is only a word, until we decide to let it possess us with all its force. Love is only a word, until someone arrives to give it meaning. Don't give up. Remember, it's always the last key on the key ring that opens the door.
One half of my head, from the top of my skull to the cleft of my jaw, hammers, bangs, sizzles while the other half, serene and content, looks on at the agony next door.