The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.
It is a very poor consolation to be told that the man who has given one a bad dinner, or poor wine, is irreproachable in private life. Even the cardinal virtues cannot atone for half-cold entrees.
The difference between famous creators and struggling artists is that the creators know that improving the lives of others deserves the highest reward.
I love to disturb people, because only by disturbing them you can make them think. They have stopped thinking for centuries. Nobody has been there to disturb them. People have been consoling them. I am not going to console anybody... Because the more you console them, the more retarded they remain. Shog them, hit them hard, give them challenge. That challenge will bring their full capacities to the climax.
Love transforms and love cures;but,sometimes,love builds deadly traps and can end up destroying a person who had resolved to give him or herself completely.What is this complex feeling which,deep down,is the only reason we continue to live,struggle and improve?
In my early 20s I was so miserable doing construction, I wanted something that paid money. I liked nice stuff. I liked cars and architecture, and things that cost money. I wanted to not swing a hammer, and make money… and not do stuff that was dirty. I attempted to get into comedy. I started to do stand-up, but I wasn’t very good at it.
I’m not Shakespare
Who write about U
I am not Shelley
Who Sing About U
I am not Piccaso
Who Paint U
I am just Ur friend
Who Want 2 Say
“I’m always with U”
Usne Kaha . . . !
"Bhrosa Dil Pe Itna Nahi Karte"
Maine Kaha . . . !
"Pyar Me Kabhi Socha Nahi Karte"
Usne Kaha . . . !
"Bahut Kuchh Duniya Ke Nazaaro Me Hai"
Maine Kaha . . . !
"Jub Tum Saath Ho To
Hum Kuchh Or Dekha Nahi Karte"
Religious literature has eminent examples, and if we run over our private list of poets, critics, philanthropists and philosophers, we shall find them infected with this dropsy and elephantiasis, which we ought to have tapped.