Follow Up

I came across this quote and it goes right along with my last blog post.  

(Well I think it does anyway...)

So I decided to post it! :)

"and those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music"

-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

This one goes along with my current mood:

"if the music is good, you dance"

And these I'm posting just because!

(...because I love books) ;)

"Dear Millionaires, if you don't have a bookshelf that spins into another room, give me your money, because you're spending it wrong."

"Romeo and Juliet is not a love story.  It's a 3 day relationship between a 13 year old and a 17 year old that caused 6 deaths.

Sincerely,

everyone who actually read it."

"That moment when you finish a book, look around, and realize that everyone is just carrying on with their lives as though you didn't just experience emotional trauma at the hands of a paperback."

Happy (or as happy as it ever is) Monday!

The Truth Is...

If I could,

I would quote this entire book!

November 12, 1995

  BOSTON -- The worst part of dying this way, he said, was that he couldn't dance. Morrie loved to dance. For years he went to a church hall not far from Harvard Square, where once a week they would  blast music and open the door to anyone, dance however you wanted, with whomever you wanted. Morrie danced by himself. He shimmied and fox-trotted, he did old dances to modern rock music. He closed his  eyes and fell into the rhythm, twirling and spinning and clapping his hands. There, among the college students, this old man with twinkling eyes and thin white hair shook his body until his T-shirt was soaked with sweat. He was a respected sociology professor with a wife and two sons. He had written books. He had lectured all over. But on these nights, he danced alone like a shipwrecked child. He wasn't  embarrassed. He never got embarrassed. For him, the whole thing was a sort of introspective journey.

  It would not be his last.

  Dancing ended for Morrie Schwartz in the last few years, as did  nearly every other physical activity; driving, walking, bathing, going to the bathroom, even wiping tears from his eyes. He was hit with Lou Gehrig's disease, a killer that takes the pieces of your life  the way a dealer takes the cards off the blackjack table. Your nerves die, your muscles go limp. Your arms and legs become useless. Even swallowing is a chore. By the end, the only thing untouched is  your mind. For most people, this is more a curse than a blessing.     Most people.

  "My disease," Morrie once said, lying in the chair in his West Newton, Mass., study, "is the most horrible and wonderful death. Horrible because, well, look at me" -- he cast his eyes down on his ragged, shrunken body -- "but wonderful because of all the time it gives me to say to good-bye. And to figure out where I'm  going next."

  "And where is that?" he was asked.

  He grinned like an elf.

  "I'll let you know."

http://mitchalbom.com/d/bio/3720/inspiration-morrie-schwartz

"The truth is, once you learn how to die, you learn how to live."

 

"Dying is only one thing to be sad over. Living unhappily is something else."

"There is a big confusion in this country over what we want verses what we need...you need food. You want a chocolate sundae."

"Remember what I said about finding a meaningful life? I wrote it down, but now I can recite it: Devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."

"Giving to other people makes me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they were feeling sad..."

"Accept who you are; and revel in it." 

 

“A teacher to the last”