Category: Aphorisms

To reach the moon, first you need to strap yourself onto a rocket.

Dogs are less expensive and disappointing and more communicative and loyal than most friends, not to mention children.

No one who doesn’t look like Tony Soprano or The Dude should ever wear a bathrobe outside the house.

Only in the face of death do we most value life.

Trust the man who cries. Fear the man who weeps.

No one has ever been worse off for reading one short poem a day.

You don’t need a weathervane to know which way the wind blows.

Think not of the dead as dead. Think of them instead as simply somewhere else. Not here. Not in your presence. But somewhere else, somewhere safe, somewhere untouched by time. Distant, absent always, but waiting — waiting with hope, waiting with patience, waiting for the day when destiny will reunite us all, perhaps for one final journey.

An aphorism is a poem that travels quickly with a place to go.

If Death had visited Shakespeare in 1596 and given him two options — die in 20 years and be praised for centuries or die in 25 years and be lost to history — Shakespeare would have chosen the former. But if Death had come to Shakespeare on the day of his passing in 1616 with a similar offer — die now and be remembered or live another five years and be forgotten — he might have chosen the latter.