A Quote by Edna St. Vincent Millay

For the body at best
   Is a bundle of aches,
Longing for rest;
   It cries when it wakes. — © Edna St. Vincent Millay
For the body at best Is a bundle of aches, Longing for rest; It cries when it wakes.
In my view the bundle theorist should say that when a bundle is located somewhere, there is an 'instance' of the bundle there. The instance is entirely constituted by the universals of the bundle. But the bundle and the instance are two distinct entities. Bundles of universals can be multiply located, but their instances cannot, and particulars are instances of a bundle of universals.
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth, My old sorrow wakes and cries.
The best thing I've learned is that you have to listen to your body, and you have to be your own physician. Don't ignore those little groaning aches and pains.
My personal medicine bundle is my backpack that I have at the top of the course. Each person's medicine bundle is different and sacred and not to be spoken of. I have some goodies in my bundle. And my power stone is a quartz crystal that I love and wear almost every day.
I'd definitely love to do more acting. My heart cries out for it; it's such a deep longing.
Rest, rest, rest, rest, rest. Nutrition is obviously very important, but rest is equally important. At rest is when your body is trying to recover.
[O]ur own bodies are changing every second. Yet we take the body to be our Self; and, speaking in terms of it, we say, “I am hungry” or “I am lame”; “I am black” or “I am white.” These are all just the conditions of the body. We touch the truth when we say, “My body aches,” implying the body belongs to us and that therefore we are not that. (87)
We all have hometown appetites. Every other person is a bundle of longing for the simplicities of good taste once enjoyed on the farm or in the hometown left behind.
When someone kisses someone or flushes the toilet it is my other who sits in a ball and cries. My other beats a tin drum in my heart. My other hangs up laundry as I try to sleep. My other cries and cries and cries when I put on a cocktail dress.
To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest, Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide, And tremble to be happy with the rest." And I make answer: "I am satisfied; I dare not ask; I know not what is best; God hath already said what shall betide.
The body is a bundle of careful compromises.
Longing is the fullest sense of desire; it's the most deeply felt kind of desire. I think the most interesting artwork comes out of some sense of longing. It could be called dissatisfaction; it could be called distance. There are many kinds of wanting to get closer to something else, whether that is an idea, a body, a place. Longing is also one of the conditions people approach reading, visual art, or music with - it's to satisfy that sense of longing. It's part of my job, on some level, to grapple with that notion.
My favorite moments are the moments everyone cries over. I see people in the audience crying, and I go, 'I did that, too. I don't just do the jokes. I also do the cries.' Jokes and cries, jokes and cries. That's all I'm here for, people.
There are voices crying what must be done, a hundred, a thousand voices. But what do they help if one seeks for counsel, for one cries this, and one cries that, and another cries something that is neither this nor that.
See, for some reason, I feel like it's a victory if I wake up one minute before the alarm. It's like I'm in a contest with myself, with my foot kicking around until it wakes up the rest of my body. It's the stupidest thing. But it makes me feel like I've already won something.
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