Saw this and had to borrow it... He dies a slow death who becomes a slave to habit, repeating everyday the same paths, who doesn’t change the mark he leaves, won’t risk wearing a new color, nor talk to people he doesn’t know. He dies a slow death who avoids passion, who prefers black to white and dotted i’s over a whirlwind of emotions,especially those that make the eyes sparkle , rescue smiles from yawns, hearts clumsy with feelings. He dies a slow death who doesn’t upend the table when he is unhappy at work, who won’t risk a sure thing for the uncertainty behind a dream, who won’t allow himself, at least once in his life, to flee from sensible advice. He dies a slow death who doesn’t travel, nor read, nor hear music, who doesn’t laugh at himself. He dies a slow death who destroys self-love, who won’t let himself be helped. He dies a slow death who spends his days complaining of his bad luck or of the neverending rain. He dies a slow death who quits a project before starting it, not asking about what he doesn’t know, or not answering when asked about something he does know. Let us avoid death in gentle doses, remembering always that being alive demands an effort much greater than the simple act of breathing. Only burning patience will allow us to conquer a splendid happiness. Pablo Neruda
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 20:04:35 +0000
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