Life is never ordinary, it is always a wonder, it is always magical.
I’ve really learned to appreciate the magic of challenging yourself. Seeing yourself somewhere new. There’s a whole world out there.
I never really grew up until I had kids.
The color-patches of vision part, shift, and reform as I move through space in time. The present is the object of vision, and what I see before me at any given second is a full field of color patches scattered just so. The configuration will never be repeated. Living is moving; time is a live creek bearing changing lights. As I move, or as the world moves around me, the fullness of what I see shatters. “Last forever!
Open your eyes; you will see the greatness of God.
Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.
A man who needs the unusual to make him “wonder” shows that he has lost the capacity to find the true answer to the wonder of being. The itch for sensation, even though disguised in the mask of Boheme, is a sure indication of a bourgeois mind and a deadened sense of wonder.
I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul.
Being reveals itself in all its beauty, splendor, and mystery “to him who contemplates it reverently.
When they love you, you’ll know it. If they don’t, you’ll wonder all the time if they do.