If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.
If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.
If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbors.
If there is to be peace between neighbors,
There must be peace in the home.
If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.
Forgive us that often we forgive ourselves so easily and others so hardly / Forgive us that we expect perfection from those to whom we show none / Forgive us for repelling people by the way we set a good example / Forgive us the folly of trying to improve a friend / Forbid that we should use our little idea of goodness as a spear to wound those who are different / Forbid that we should feel superior to others when we are only more shielded / And may we encourage the secret struggle of every person.
Somebody was trying to tell me that CDs are better than vinyl because they don’t have any surface noise. I said, ‘Listen, mate, life has surface noise.’
John Peel was an English disc jockey, radio presenter and journalist. Known for his eclectic taste in music and his honest and warm broadcasting style, John Peel was a popular and respected DJ and broadcaster. He was one of the first to play reggae and punk on British radio. Peel was the longest-serving of the original DJs of BBC Radio 1, broadcasting on it from 1967 until his death in 2004. He had significant influence on alternative rock, Pop, British hip hop and dance music.
I sit there thinking about how much courage it takes to live an ordinary life.
Hard to argue w/ this one…
"Corrigan told me once that Christ was quite easy to understand. He went where He was supposed to go. He stayed where He was needed. He took little or nothing along—a pair of sandals, a bit of a shirt, a few odds and ends to stave off the loneliness. He never rejected the world. If He had rejected it, He would have been rejecting mystery. And if He rejected mystery, He would have been rejecting faith.
“What Corrigan wanted was a fully believable God, one you could find in the grime of the everyday. The comfort he got from the hard, cold truth—the filth, the war, the poverty—was that life could be capable of small beauties. He wasn’t interested in the glorious tales of the afterlife or the notions of a honey-soaked heaven. To him that was a dressing room for hell. Rather, he consoled himself with the fact that, in the real world, when he looked closely into the darkness, he might find the presence of a light, damaged and bruised, but a little light all the same. He wanted, quite simply, for the world to be a better place, and he was in the habit of hoping for it. Out of that came some sort of triumph that went beyond theological proof, a cause for optimism against all the evidence.
“’Someday the meek might actually want it,’ he said.”
Never try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and annoys the pig.
Source: Flickr / fruvous2