I can choose to be happy, or I can choose to be sad.
I can choose to be angry, or I can choose to be mad.
I can choose to be sappy, or I can choose to be glad.
But I can't choose to not choose, for that choice isn't one to be had.
I go through life in my head.
I know if the world knew, some would want me dead.
The rest would be cruelly sympathetic instead.
So I hide, my mouth shut, my eyes wide.
Wondering if anyone else can feel how I feel inside.
Going through life like I'm sane.
Inside it seems like nothing but a game.
I wish the world could feel how I think.
Always and forever, I'm on the brink.
Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.
As I lick my armpit and shall agree,
That this putty is very well green.
- Grunthos the Flatulent
To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.
~ Elbert Hubbard Music provides one of the clearest examples of a much deeper relation between mathematics and human experience.
Christmas poems remind us all
Of the manger and the stall
Where the Son of God was born
Early the first Christmas morn.
Lowly down to earth he came
For to love us all the same.
Angels, shepherds, wise men knelt
There to praise him for they felt
This little baby lain on hay
Was the one that we'd hear say
That God loves us every one
And in this race we have to run
He'll be with us till day is done.