If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
Robert BrowningRead
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
Interpretation
This quote reflects the urgency and pace of life as one ages, emphasizing the need to achieve more in less time.
Robert Browning's quote highlights the inevitability of aging and the accompanying realization that time is limited. As people grow older, they often feel a pressure to accomplish what they may have taken for granted in their youth, suggesting that the urgency to live fully and achieve one's goals intensifies as time moves on.
In practice
This quote could be shared during a motivational speech aimed at older audiences reflecting on their life's goals.
If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds_x000D_ _x000D_ All the world's loves in its unworldliness.
I dare not so honor my mere wishes and prayers as to put them for a moment beside your noble acts; but this know, I would rather submit to the worst of deaths, so far as pain goes, than have a single dog or cat tortured on the pretence of sparing me a twinge or two.
How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come, And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In lifeβs November too! I shall be found by the fire, suppose, Oβer a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows, And I turn the page, and I turn the page, Not verse now, only prose!
How good is life, the mere living!
Grieving allows us to heal, to remember with love rather than pain. It is a sorting process. One by one you let go of the things that are gone and you mourn for them. One by one you take hold of the things that have become a part of who you are and build again.
What happens when she's not my memory anymore? What happens when she's not around to tell me about his belt leaving scars across my two-year-old brother's face or when he whacked her so hard that she lost her hearing for a week? Who'll be my memory?" Santangelo doesn't miss a beat. "I will. Ring me." "Same," Raffy says. I look at him. I can't even speak because if I do I know I'll cry but I smile and he knows what I'm thinking.
My hope for all of us is that 'the miles we go before we sleep' will be filled with all the feelings that come from deep caring--delight , sadness, joy, wisdom--and that in all the endings of our life, we will be able to see the new beginnings.
The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.
My father left me with the feeling that I had to live for two people, and that if I did it well enough, somehow I could make up for the life he should have had. And his memory infused me, at a younger age than most, with a sense of my own mortality. The knowledge that I, too, could die young drove me both to try to drain the most out of every moment of life and to get on with the next big challenge. Even when I wasn't sure where I was going, I was always in a hurry.
I cannot live a life where I'm deprived. I'd much rather be five, 10 pounds heavier. With my luck, I'll get myself to that perfect goal weight, and I'll get hit by a bus. Then I'll be like... looking at myself from some afterlife going, 'You idiot. You could have had that agnolotti, dummy.'
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