Gift
Quotes - There's no need to curse God if you're an ugly duckling
“My
dearest friend Abigail, These probably could be the last words I write to you
and I may not live long enough to see your response but I truly have lived long
enough to live forever in the hearts of my friends. I thought a lot about what
I should write to you. I thought of giving you blessings and wishes for things
of great value to happen to you in future; I thought of appreciating you for
being the way you are; I thought to give sweet and lovely compliments for
everything about you; I thought to write something in praise of your poems and
prose; and I thought of extending my gratitude for being one of the very few
sincerest friends I have ever had. But that is what all friends do and they
only qualify to remain as a part of the bunch of our loosely connected memories
and that's not what I can choose to be, I cannot choose to be lost somewhere in
your memories. So I thought of something through which I hope you will remember
me for a very long time. I decided to share some part of my story, of what led
me here, the part we both have had in common. A past, which changed us and our
perception of the world. A past, which shaped our future into an unknown yet
exciting opportunity to revisit the lost thoughts and to break free from the
libido of our lost dreams. A past, which questioned our whole past. My dear,
when the moment of my past struck me, in its highest demonised form, I felt
dead, like a dead-man walking in flesh without a soul, who had no reason to
live any more. I no longer saw any meaning of life but then I saw no reason to
die as well. I travelled to far away lands, running away from friends, family
and everyone else and I confined myself to my thoughts, to my feelings and to
myself. Hours, days, weeks and months passed and I waited for a moment of magic
to happen, a turn of destiny, but nothing happened, nothing ever happens. I
waited and I counted each moment of it, thinking about every moment of my life,
the good and the bad ones. I then saw how powerful yet weak, bright yet dark,
beautiful yet ugly, joyous yet grievous; is a one single moment. One moment
makes the difference. Just a one moment. Such appears to be the extreme and
undisputed power of a single moment. We live in a world of appearance, Abigail,
where the reality lies beyond the appearances, and this is also only what
appears to be such powerful when in actuality it is not. I realised that the
power of the moment is not in the moment itself. The power, actually, is in us.
Every single one of us has the power to make and shape our own moments. It is
us who by feeling joyful, celebrate for a moment of success; and it is also us
who by feeling saddened, cry and mourn over our losses. I, with all my heart
and mind, now embrace this power which lies within us. I wish life offers you
more time to make use of this power. Remember, we are our own griefs, my dear,
we are our own happinesses and we are our own remedies.
Take
care!
Love,
Francis.
Title:
Letter to Abigail
Scene:
"Death-bed"
Chapter:
The Road To Awe”
―
Huseyn Raza
“Hermes's
eyes twinkled. "Martha, may I have the first package, please?"
Martha
opened her mouth ... and kept opening it until it was as wide as my arm. She
belched out a stainless steel canister-an old-fashioned lunch box thermos with
a black plastic top. The sides of the thermos were enameled with red and yellow
Ancient Greek scenes-a hero killing a lion; a hero lifting up Cerberus, the
three-headed dog.
"That's
Hercules," I said. "But how-"
"Never
question a gift," Hermes chided. "This is a collector's item from
Hercules Busts Heads. The first season."
"Hercules
Busts Heads?"
"Great
show." Hermes sighed. "Back before Hephaestus-TV was all reality
programming. Of course, the thermos would be worth much more if I had the whole
lunch box-”
―
Rick Riordan, The Sea of Monsters
“And
you, Ring-bearer,’ she said, turning to Frodo. ‘I come to you last who are not
last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this.’ She held up a small crystal
phial: it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light sprang from her
hand. ‘In this phial,’ she said, ‘is caught the light of Eärendil’s star, set
amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is
about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go
out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror!’
Frodo
took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again
standing like a queen, great and beautiful.”
―
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers
“There's
no need to curse God if you're an ugly duckling. He chooses those strong enough
to endure it so that they can guide others who've felt the same.”
―
Criss Jami, Killosophy
“She
sang, as requested. There was much about love in the ballad: faithful love that
refused to abandon its object; love that disaster could not shake; love that,
in calamity, waxed fonder, in poverty clung closer. The words were set to a
fine old air -- in themselves they were simple and sweet: perhaps, when read,
they wanted force; when well sung, they wanted nothing. Shirley sang them well:
she breathed into the feeling, softness, she poured round the passion, force:
her voice was fine that evening; its expression dramatic: she impressed all,
and charmed one.
On
leaving the instrument, she went to the fire, and sat down on a seat --
semi-stool, semi-cushion: the ladies were round her -- none of them spoke. The
Misses Sympson and the Misses Nunnely looked upon her, as quiet poultry might
look on an egret, an ibis, or any other strange fowl. What made her sing so?
They never sang so. Was it proper to sing with such expression, with such
originality -- so unlike a school girl? Decidedly not: it was strange, it was
unusual. What was strange must be wrong; what was unusual must be improper.
Shirley was judged.”
―
Charlotte Brontë, Shirley
