Monday, March 19, 2007

Quotes [Part 2]

always smile in the morning
it makes people wonder what you did last night

Ever have one of those days
where you hate the world,
and anything that happens,
even dropping your pen,
makes you want to break down and cry?

WHEN LiFE GETS YOU TO THE POiNT WHERE YOU COULD CARE LESS
iF YOU LiVE OR DiE & WHEN THE PEOPLE YOU WiSH YOU COULD COUNT ON
ARENT THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU NEED THEM .
THE ONLY ONE YOU COULD COUNT ON iS YOUR SELF.
BELiEVE iN YOUR SELF ;
THAT U COULD BE BETTER THEN ALL THE PEOPLE WHO LET YOU DOWN.
YOUR LiFE COULD BE THE MOST AMAZiNG THiNG TO SOMEONE ELSE.
iT'S WHAT YOU DO WiTH YOUR LiFE & WHO LiVES FOR YOUR TOUCH iN THE PROCESS ;
THAT MAKES YOU WHO YOU ARE, SOME WHERE & SOME HOW ,
SOMEONE iS DEPENDiNG ON YOU
.. SO DON'T LET THEM DOWN - THE WAY YOU'VE BEEN LET DOWN


someday, you're going to meet someone who
drives you mad. who you're going to fight with
and laugh with and do totally insane things for
someone who turns your life upsidedown


Well, if you don't know whats wrong,

point out something that feels right.

Sometimes you need a second chance
because time wasn't ready for the first one.

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better. It's not.-Dr. Seuss

"That is Life. Nothing else, thats life.
Its real, sometimes it fucking hurts.
But it's sorta all we have."

Moving on is simple, its what you leave behind
that makes it so hard

until you're broken,
you don't really know what you're made of..

At this moment, there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world.
Some are running scared. Some are coming home.
Some tell lies to make it through the day.
Others are just now facing the truth.
Some are evil men, at war with good.
And some are good, struggling with evil. S
ix billion people in the world. Six billion souls.
And sometimes, all you need is one.

and this kid came out of nowhere
looked at the sky
and told me to see
the stars

so let's say that "theoretically,"
i really like you,
and "theoretically," even though it sounds
moronically cliche and overused,
you give me butterflies. and, just for kicks,
let's add that [all in theory of course]
you may be one of the most wonderful people i have ever met.
and hypothetically, my heart
beats ten times faster when i see you.
do you think that you would supposedly
[and in the most theoretical sense] feel the same way?

you pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll
find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty
yesterdays. I don't know about you, but I'd
like to make today worth remembering.

it's hard to fight the things we're afraid of;
sometimes we just need a little help

Learn to let go of the past.
And recognize that every day won't be sunny,
and when you find yourself lost in the darkness and despair
remember it's only in the black of night you see the stars.
And those stars will lead you back home.
So don't be afraid to make mistakes, or stumble and fall,
cause most of the time the greatest rewards
come from doing the things that scare you the most.
Maybe you'll get everything you wish for.
Maybe you'll get more than you ever could have imagined.
Who knows where life will take you.
The road is long and in the end, the journey is the destination.


Friday, March 16, 2007

Funny Pictures

Humans are so SCARY
Finding Nemo Sushi
Horny Remover


Fancy Thai Restaurant

Keep Your Fork

Keep your Fork

The best is yet to come!

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order" she contacted her Priest and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Priest was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.

"What' that?" came the Priest's reply.

"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand,"

The Priest stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.

"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Priest.

The young woman explained. "In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them, 'Keep your fork...the best is yet to come.'

The Priest's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She knew that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Priest heard them question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled. During his message, the Priest told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.

The next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are very rare jewels, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us. Show your friends how much you care. Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share. After all, being friends with someone is a sweet responsibility. And above all, don't forget to keep your fork.

Someday

A friend of mine opened his wife's underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package: "This, - he said - isn't any ordinary package." He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box. "She got this the first time we went to New York , 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on, was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it.

He got near the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral house, his wife had just died. He turned to me and said: "Never save something for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion".

I still think those words changed my life. Now I read more and clean less. I sit on the porch without worrying about anything.I spend more time with my family, and less at work.

I understood that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through. I no longer keep anything. I use crystal glasses every day. I'll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if i feel like it. I don't save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.

The words "Someday..." and "One Day..." are fading away from my dictionary. If it's worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it now. I don't know what my friend's wife would have done if she knew she wouldn't be there the next morning, this nobody can tell. I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends. She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels. I'd like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food.

It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come.I would regret it, because I would no longer see the friends I would meet, letters... that I wanted to write "One of these days". I would regret and feel sad, because I didn't say to my brother and sisters, son and daughters, not times enough at least, how much I love them.

Now, I try not to delay, postpone or keep anything that could bring laughter and joy into our lives.. And, on each morning, I say to myself that this could be a special day.. Each day, each hour, each minute, is special.

Remember that one day is far away....or might never come.

A Few Rules of Life

1. Gardening Rule: When weeding, the best way to make sure you are removing a weed and not a valuable plant is to pull on it. If it comes out of the ground easily, it is a valuable plant.

2. The easiest way to find something lost around the house is to buy a replacement.

3. Never take life too seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.

4. There are two kinds of pedestrians -- the quick and the dead.

5. Life is sexually transmitted.

6. An unbreakable toy is useful for breaking other toys.

7. If quitters never win, and winners never quit, then who is the fool who said, "Quit while you're ahead?"

8. Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.

9. The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.

10. You can still get the last word in: Apologize.

11. Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach that person to use a computer and they won't bother you for weeks.

12. Some people are like Slinkies . . . they are not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.

13. Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, dying for no apparent reason.

14. Have you noticed since everyone has a camcorder these days no one talks about seeing UFOs like they use to?

15. Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.

16. All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.

17. Why does a slight tax increase cost you two hundred dollars and a substantial tax cut saves you thirty cents?

18. In the 60's, people took LSD to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

19. Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.

20. How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

The Brave Tin Soldier


by Hans Christian Andersen


THERE were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers, who were all brothers, for they had been made out of the same old tin spoon. They shouldered arms and looked straight before them, and wore a splendid uniform, red and blue. The first thing in the world they ever heard were the words, "Tin soldiers!" uttered by a little boy, who clapped his hands with delight when the lid of the box, in which they lay, was taken off. They were given him for a birthday present, and he stood at the table to set them up. The soldiers were all exactly alike, excepting one, who had only one leg; he had been left to the last, and then there was not enough of the melted tin to finish him, so they made him to stand firmly on one leg, and this caused him to be very remarkable.

The table on which the tin soldiers stood, was covered with other playthings, but the most attractive to the eye was a pretty little paper castle. Through the small windows the rooms could be seen. In front of the castle a number of little trees surrounded a piece of looking-glass, which was intended to represent a transparent lake. Swans, made of wax, swam on the lake, and were reflected in it. All this was very pretty, but the prettiest of all was a tiny little lady, who stood at the open door of the castle; she, also, was made of paper, and she wore a dress of clear muslin, with a narrow blue ribbon over her shoulders just like a scarf. In front of these was fixed a glittering tinsel rose, as large as her whole face. The little lady was a dancer, and she stretched out both her arms, and raised one of her legs so high, that the tin soldier could not see it at all, and he thought that she, like himself, had only one leg. "That is the wife for me," he thought; "but she is too grand, and lives in a castle, while I have only a box to live in, five-and-twenty of us altogether, that is no place for her. Still I must try and make her acquaintance." Then he laid himself at full length on the table behind a snuff-box that stood upon it, so that he could peep at the little delicate lady, who continued to stand on one leg without losing her balance. When evening came, the other tin soldiers were all placed in the box, and the people of the house went to bed. Then the playthings began to have their own games together, to pay visits, to have sham fights, and to give balls. The tin soldiers rattled in their box; they wanted to get out and join the amusements, but they could not open the lid. The nut-crackers played at leap-frog, and the pencil jumped about the table. There was such a noise that the canary woke up and began to talk, and in poetry too. Only the tin soldier and the dancer remained in their places. She stood on tiptoe, with her legs stretched out, as firmly as he did on his one leg. He never took his eyes from her for even a moment. The clock struck twelve, and, with a bounce, up sprang the lid of the snuff-box; but, instead of snuff, there jumped up a little black goblin; for the snuff-box was a toy puzzle.

"Tin soldier," said the goblin, "don't wish for what does not belong to you.

But the tin soldier pretended not to hear.

"Very well; wait till to-morrow, then," said the goblin.

When the children came in the next morning, they placed the tin soldier in the window. Now, whether it was the goblin who did it, or the draught, is not known, but the window flew open, and out fell the tin soldier, heels over head, from the third story, into the street beneath. It was a terrible fall; for he came head downwards, his helmet and his bayonet stuck in between the flagstones, and his one leg up in the air. The servant maid and the little boy went down stairs directly to look for him; but he was nowhere to be seen, although once they nearly trod upon him. If he had called out, "Here I am," it would have been all right, but he was too proud to cry out for help while he wore a uniform.

Presently it began to rain, and the drops fell faster and faster, till there was a heavy shower. When it was over, two boys happened to pass by, and one of them said, "Look, there is a tin soldier. He ought to have a boat to sail in."

So they made a boat out of a newspaper, and placed the tin soldier in it, and sent him sailing down the gutter, while the two boys ran by the side of it, and clapped their hands. Good gracious, what large waves arose in that gutter! and how fast the stream rolled on! for the rain had been very heavy. The paper boat rocked up and down, and turned itself round sometimes so quickly that the tin soldier trembled; yet he remained firm; his countenance did not change; he looked straight before him, and shouldered his musket. Suddenly the boat shot under a bridge which formed a part of a drain, and then it was as dark as the tin soldier's box.

"Where am I going now?" thought he. "This is the black goblin's fault, I am sure. Ah, well, if the little lady were only here with me in the boat, I should not care for any darkness."

Suddenly there appeared a great water-rat, who lived in the drain.

"Have you a passport?" asked the rat, "give it to me at once." But the tin soldier remained silent and held his musket tighter than ever. The boat sailed on and the rat followed it. How he did gnash his teeth and cry out to the bits of wood and straw, "Stop him, stop him; he has not paid toll, and has not shown his pass." But the stream rushed on stronger and stronger. The tin soldier could already see daylight shining where the arch ended. Then he heard a roaring sound quite terrible enough to frighten the bravest man. At the end of the tunnel the drain fell into a large canal over a steep place, which made it as dangerous for him as a waterfall would be to us. He was too close to it to stop, so the boat rushed on, and the poor tin soldier could only hold himself as stiffly as possible, without moving an eyelid, to show that he was not afraid. The boat whirled round three or four times, and then filled with water to the very edge; nothing could save it from sinking. He now stood up to his neck in water, while deeper and deeper sank the boat, and the paper became soft and loose with the wet, till at last the water closed over the soldier's head. He thought of the elegant little dancer whom he should never see again, and the words of the song sounded in his ears- -
"Farewell, warrior! ever brave,

Drifting onward to thy grave." -

Then the paper boat fell to pieces, and the soldier sank into the water and immediately afterwards was swallowed up by a great fish. Oh how dark it was inside the fish! A great deal darker than in the tunnel, and narrower too, but the tin soldier continued firm, and lay at full length shouldering his musket. The fish swam to and fro, making the most wonderful movements, but at last he became quite still. After a while, a flash of lightning seemed to pass through him, and then the daylight approached, and a voice cried out, "I declare here is the tin soldier." The fish had been caught, taken to the market and sold to the cook, who took him into the kitchen and cut him open with a large knife. She picked up the soldier and held him by the waist between her finger and thumb, and carried him into the room. They were all anxious to see this wonderful soldier who had travelled about inside a fish; but he was not at all proud. They placed him on the table, and- how many curious things do happen in the world!- there he was in the very same room from the window of which he had fallen, there were the same children, the same playthings, standing on the table, and the pretty castle with the elegant little dancer at the door; she still balanced herself on one leg, and held up the other, so she was as firm as himself. It touched the tin soldier so much to see her that he almost wept tin tears, but he kept them back. He only looked at her and they both remained silent. Presently one of the little boys took up the tin soldier, and threw him into the stove. He had no reason for doing so, therefore it must have been the fault of the black goblin who lived in the snuff-box. The flames lighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat was very terrible, but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of love he could not tell. Then he could see that the bright colors were faded from his uniform, but whether they had been washed off during his journey or from the effects of his sorrow, no one could say. He looked at the little lady, and she looked at him. He felt himself melting away, but he still remained firm with his gun on his shoulder. Suddenly the door of the room flew open and the draught of air caught up the little dancer, she fluttered like a sylph right into the stove by the side of the tin soldier, and was instantly in flames and was gone. The tin soldier melted down into a lump, and the next morning, when the maid servant took the ashes out of the stove, she found him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the little dancer nothing remained but the tinsel rose, which was burnt black as a cinder. - -

THE END

Beautiful Quotes [part 1]

These are quotes I've collected from all over the web. Thanks to them. lol.


And so our adventure ends
and some of us found our heroes,
and others conquered their fears.
One might say we even triumphed.
I'm not so sure it happened that day
or that summer, but somehow, we all
felt older and different.
I knew I'd never forget any of it
and I decided I wasn't going to let it
end because I realized we're not just
given life experience.
We're given the experience of life.

There is a point in your life
when you get tired of chasing everyone
and trying to fix shit.
It's not giving up,
it's realizing you don't need certain
people or the shit they bring with them.
It's called living and learning.

Here's the thing about having a relationship.
You can never look for it. It's like when you lose your keys -
if you look for them, you'll never find them.
You just have to wait for them to pop up under the couch.
So I'm playing it as patient as I can.
I'm not going to rush into having a relationship,
just because I'm lonely sometimes.
I'm waiting for the right person.

Love -
We think about it, sing about it, dream about it, lose sleep worrying about it.
When we don't have it, we search for it.
When we discover it, we don't know what to do with it.
When we have it, we fear losing it.
It is the constant source of pleasure and pain,
but we can't predict which it will be from one moment to the next.
It is a short word, easy to spell, difficult to define, impossible to live without.
Love doesn't make the world go 'round.
It's what makes the ride worthwhile.
You can look all over for love, but you won't find it.
because you can't see love..
You must feel it.

Do not look back and
grieve over the past,
for it is gone.
And do not be troubled about the future
for it has not yet to come.
Live in the present,
and make it so beautiful that
it will be worth remembering.

If you're photographing in color, you show the color of their clothes but if you use black and white, you will show the color of their souls.

You always want what
you can't have.
And what you can have,
you don't want.

I believe in payback.
Letting people screw you over
is just lazy and uncreative.

"I understand that Scissors can beat Paper,
and I get how Rock can beat Scissors,
but there's no fucking way Paper can beat Rock.
Paper is supposed to magically wrap around Rock leaving it immobile?
Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors?
Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people?
Why aren't sheets of college-ruled notebook paper
constantly suffocating students as they attempt to take notes in class?
I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody,
a rock would tear that shit up in 2 seconds.
When I play rock/ paper/ scissors I always choose rock.
Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper
I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say
"oh shit I'm sorry I thought paper would protect you, asshole."
-DANECOOK

Everything's easier when you say
it in your head. But when you have
to say it out loud, it's always hard.

Whoever will gossip to you,
will gossip about you.

The day I look though a Victoria's Secret catalog
without holding any secret resentment, anger
or jealousy
, is the day I'll be truly happy with who I am.
Until then, I'll sit and wonder of everything that
could have been. If only I had been born as one of those girls.

It's hard to wait around for something
you know won't happen, but it's harder
to stop when you know it's everything
you want.

Never miss someone from your past.
There is a reason they didn't make it to your future.

All you need in this world
is a dirty mind and someone to share it with.

Think about this, people listen to the songs that
were popular in their time period.
There is going to be a generation
where grandparents are going to be
listening to rap and emo.


Mostly, I'm afraid that I try too hard
to convince people I don't mind being alone.

They'll start thinking that's the way I like itnd I'll be alone forever.


You know that good feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you know that if even for a second, you've crossed his mind? And then you know that bad butterfly feeling when you know that another girl is crossing his mind and that girl - she's everything you want to be


and I'm starting to realize
that we live in order to change someone else's life

people are always saying change is a good thing. but all they are really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all has happened


you're only young once. so let's fuck it up the right way.

It's always the person you want the most, that you're better off without.

most people don't know who they are, that's why they lie.
they're afraid someone else will figure it out before they do.

im getting to the point where i dont even care, because when i did, it never got me anywhere


"it felt weird to be sitting beside you in your car again.
if only you could be in my seat,
you would see just how different the view is from here."

The Little Match Girl



by Hans Christian Andersen

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening-- the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.

One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.

In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.

Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.

She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when--the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.

Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.

"Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.

"Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.