There's no dearth of kindness In this world of ours; Only in our blindness We gather thorns for flowers.
Attribution disputed; shown as originally published.
There's no dearth of kindness In this world of ours; Only in our blindness We gather thorns for flowers.
Attribution disputed; shown as originally published.
It ignores genuine malice in the world.
In this dim world of clouding cares, We rarely know, till wildered eyes See white wings lessening up the skies, The angels with us unawares.
The kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.
The time shall come When man to man shall be a friend and brother.
I guess I kind of lived in a fairytale world... looking at everything through rose-colored glasses. I probably always will, to a certain extent.
It is we who are the measure of what is strange and miraculous: if we sought a universal measure the strange and miraculous would not occur and all things woul…
Nature is trying very hard to make us succeed, but nature does not depend on us. We are not the only experiment.