There is much to be gained from reading nonfiction

Business books and magazines are great, but there is as much or more to be gained from reading nonfiction. There is a certain education and situational knowledge that comes along with being widely read. You run into a lot of ideas, a lot of concepts, and you find a lot of connections.

 Anthony Iannarino

Quote – They may just be little things

I try to do the right thing at the right time. They may just be little things, but usually, they make the difference between winning and losing.

— Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

Quote – strong, effective writing is concise

Vigorous [strong, effective] writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts.

— William Strunk, Jr.

Poetry – WHEN THE CLOUD COMES DOWN THE MOUNTAIN

When the cloud comes down the mountain,
And the rain is loud on the leaves,
And the slim flies gather for shelter
Under my cabin eaves,

Then my heart goes out to earth,
With the swollen brook runs free,
Drinks life with the drenched brown roots,
And climbs with the sap in the tree.

— Charles G. D. Roberts

Quote – it’s foolish to crow

The moral is clear: The wisest folks know That it’s so nice to win, but it’s foolish to crow.

— Aesop, Greek writer

Quote – You never conquer a mountain

You never conquer a mountain. You stand on the summit a few moments; then the wind blows your footprints away.

— Arlene Blum, US mountain climber

O TO BE AN OSTRICH

O TO BE AN OSTRICH

The ostrich
like Shakespeare
believes there is nothing
good or bad
but thinking
makes it so.

All problems
he has found
by taking his head
out of the ground
and looking
for them.

The solving
obviously
is a matter of foot
going faster than thought
to avoid
being caught.

Such logic
of conscience
may well be envied—
for who can dispute
what can not be questioned
or proved?

— Elizabeth Bartlett

A Reason To Listen More And Speak Less

We have two ears and one tongue so that we would listen more and talk less.

— Diogenes, 4th Century BC philosopher

Before you speak, listen

Before you speak, listen. 
Before you write, think. 
Before you spend, earn. 
Before you invest, investigate. 
Before you criticize, wait. 
Before you pray, forgive. 
Before you quit, try. 
Before you retire, save. 
Before you die, give.

William Arthur Ward

Related References

The Difference Between Hearing And Listening

Listening impacts how we relate to the natural world and especially with regard to social interactions. Hearing really is about receiving sound via the years, which for most of us is done pretty much without much consideration or concentration.  People spend most of their time hearing and not actually listening. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it can become a bad habit, especially, if those missed opportunities to listen and to mentally process the information presented to us deprives us of opportunities to succeed in life or lease to avoid some unwanted outcomes.

Listening is a more intermittent process and requires the listener to not only receive sounds but to recognize them as having some meaning, to mentally process that information, and ultimately to act on the information.

People frequently hear but far less frequently listen. The active processes and listening of recognizing the value of the sounds we hear, the significance of the circumstances in which they find themselves, and that some form of action or response is required occurs less often than it should.

The Key component which distinguishes hearing from listening is that listening requires mental processing and appropriate action. There is an old adage that “information is power quotes”, this is only true in the case of hearing, if we do more than hear, and take the next step to listen whereby we use the information that we gathered from hearing and apply mental processes to determine what is meaningful, valuable, and requires action either immediate or more strategic and long term.

THERE CAME TO MY WINDOW

There came to my window one morning in Spring
A sweet little Robin; she came there to sing.
The tune that she sang, it was prettier far
Than any I heard on the flute or guitar.

Her wings she was spreading to soar far away,
Then resting a moment seemed sweetly to say:
“Oh happy, how happy the world seems to be!
Awake, Little Girl and be happy with me!”

But just as she finished her beautiful song,
A thoughtless young man with a gun came along.
He killed and he carried my sweet bird away,
She no more will sing at the dawn of the day.

— Anonymous

THE OYSTER

Two halves of an oyster shell, each a shallow cup;
Here once lived an oyster before they ate him up.
Oyster shells are smooth inside; outside very rough;
Very little room to spare, but he had enough.
Bedroom, parlor, kitchen, or cellar there was none;
Just one room in all the house—oysters need but one.
And he was never troubled by wind or rain or snow,
For he had a roof above, another one below.
I wonder if they fried him, or cooked him in a stew,
And sold him at a fair, and passed him off for two.
I wonder if the oysters all have names like us,
And did he have a name like “John” or “Romulus”?
I wonder if his parents wept to see him go;
I wonder who can tell; perhaps the mermaids know.
I wonder if our sleep the most of us would dread,
If we slept like oysters, a million in a bed!

— Arthur Macy

THE FERN SONG

THE FERN SONG

Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern,
And spread out your palms again,
And say, “Tho’ the Sun
Hath my vesture spun,
He hath labored, alas, in vain,
But for the shade
That the Cloud hath made,
And the gift of the Dew and the Rain.”
Then laugh and upturn
All your fronds, little Fern,
And rejoice in the beat of the rain!

John Bannister Tabb

THE LOST DOLL

I once had a sweet little doll, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world;
Her cheeks were so red and white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled.
But I lost my poor little doll, dears,
As I played in the heath one day;
And I cried for her more than a week, dears,
But I never could find where she lay.

I found my poor little doll, dears,
As I played in the heath one day;
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away,
And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled;
Yet for old sakes’ sake, she is still, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world.

— —Charles Kingsley