Friday, May 02, 2008

Next time you want any information,

don't scratch for it like a dog.

Ask for it like a man.

"Sweet Smell Of Success"

Time is the substance from which I am made.

Time is a river which carries me along,

but I am the river;

it is a tiger that devours me,

but I am the tiger;

it is a fire that consumes me,

but I am the fire.

Jorge Luis Borges


Bobby D. said...

The Borges is nice-- I'm not familiar with him.

It would be nice to sit outdoors, sipping coffee or tea and reading poems
maybe tomorrow it won't rain.

Kurt said...


dennis said...

Dennis doesn't feel like a tiger today.

Squirrel said...

what kurt said

Coffee Messiah said...

dc: Yes, a luxury indeed.

kurt: 'Tis true!

dennis: I was under the impression you always felt the tiger within you.

squirrel: What I replied to kurt.

Merle Sneed said...

Are we both the problem and its solution?

DivaJood said...

Ah, the Dali painting. How could someone who could paint so well be so right wing? I'm only asking.

robin andrea said...

I've never seen that Borges quote before. I like it, coffee. Makes me want to read more of him.

Anonymous said...

Borges, very heavy. I haven't been around much lately, 'cause of a day job. Just wanted to stop by and tag you! The 5th Sentence, pretty easy. Details on my post today.

(I suspect everyone's already done this one. I'm just following through;-D)

Coffee Messiah said...

merle: Uh, yes.....

diva: When you figure it out, please let me know.

robin: It's a great quote, isn't it....

decker: Thanks, and I know what you mean about the "day job" side of things! ; (

Did I ever tell you, that I don't mix well when it comes to tag? ; (

Mary said...

I did not know that Dali was right. Guess I never studied him much. That messes with my view of his work.

tony said...

THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience)
By William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Coffee Messiah said...

mary: We can't agree with everyone, but, creativity is still something to be in awe of.

tony: Thanks 4 the Blake. He's among many writers we should never forget.