A wise man is someone who knows how to convert obstacles into resources.
It was now December 7, 1941; the date that Franklin D. Roosevelt was destined to declare would live in infamy.
In the history of the world, we have left our footprints by our unique stories.
Preservation of the past has been one of humankind’s chief preoccupations for centuries, although I am not convinced much of it is worth preserving.
They walked off down the hall in the direction of a sign that said Colored Waiting Room. Billie guessed white folks didn’t have to wait.
History is what we write, not what we remember. Why should we tarnish the memory of our planet by enshrining our less then noble deeds?
Some people are disappointed in their life because they are trying to use the tools that God did not authorised them to use in their life, trying to build on a purpose that is not even attached in their personality.
If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.
In the beginning was the word, and primitive societies venerated poets second only to their leaders. A poet had the power to name and so to control; he was, literally, the living memory of a group or tribe who would perpetuate their history in song; his inspiration was god given and he was in effect a medium.
History is the preceptor of prudence, not principles.