No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— Almost, at times, the Fool.
Being thankful helps you to be present.People commit errors because they are not present.I would encourage women and men to be present - you'll avoid falling into certain pits.For instance, if you know that a person has just lost his wife or her husband or lover, it's unlikely that you will say something that will hurt that person's feelings if you're truly paying attention. You'll make a sweeter life for yourself and for those around you if you are present.
Na Jaane Kis Shaks Ka Intezaar Hume Aaj Bhi
Hai....
Sukoon To Bahot Hai Par Dil Bekarar Aaj Bhi
Hai...
Tumne Hume Nafraton K Siva Kuch Nahi Diya
Lekin...
Hume Tumhari Nafraton Se Pyar Aaj Bhi Hai...!
Tera Intezaar Mujhe Har Pal Rehta
Hai, Har Lamha Mujhe Tera Ehsaas
Rehta Hai, Tujh Bin Dhadkane
Rukk Si Jaati Hai Ki Tu Mere Dil
Me Meri Dhadkan Banke Rehta Hai.
Gilbert White discovered the formula for complete happiness, but he died before making the announcement, leaving it for me to do so. It is to be very busy with the unimportant.
It is strange how little sharpsightedness women possess; they only notice whether they please, then whether they arouse pity, and finally, whether you look for compassion from them. That is all; come to think of it, it may even be enough, generally speaking.
Look, this is a man, he's got great numbers. He talks about numbers. I'm beginning to think not only did he invent the Internet, but he invented the calculator. It's fuzzy math. It's a scaring - trying to scare people in the voting booth. Under my tax plan, that he continues to criticize, I set a third - the federal government should take no more than a third of anybody's check.
Waade Pe Woh Mere Aitbaar Nahi Karte
Hum Zikare Mohabbat Ka Saare-Bazaar Nahi Karte
Darta Hai Dil Unki Ruswai Se
Aur Woh Soachte Hai Ki Hum Unse Pyaar Nahi
Karte
Kuch Log Jo Aankhon Mein Rhe Dil Mein Rhenge Ab,
Bas Jagaah Bdal Rhee Hai Koi Duri NhiHai,
Hum Aap Sey Mil Naa Sake Jab Dil Chahey Milna,
Faaslon K Bad Bhi Aisi Mazburi Nhi Hai…
This man, who for twenty-five years has been reading and writing about art, and in all that time has never understood anything about art, has for twenty-five years been hashing over other people's ideas about realism, naturalism and all that nonsense; for twenty-five years he has been reading and writing about what intelligent people already know and about what stupid people don't want to know--which means that for twenty-five years he's been taking nothing and making nothing out of it. And with it all, what conceit! What pretension!
Men of the most robust make, observe that in looking upon sore eyes they often feel a very sensible soreness in their own, which proceeds from the same reason; that organ being in the strongest man more delicate, than any other part of the body is in the weakest.