Thought/quote of the day ... an occasional series .. with some poetry thrown in

Throwing the ball in with this quote from Norman Mailer.
"“When two men pass one another in the street and say ‘Good morning’, there’s a winner and a loser.”

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“Before you play two notes, learn how to play one note, y’know. And that, it’s as simple as that really. And don’t play one note unless you’ve got a reason to play it.”

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Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible.
Mailer wrote The Naked and the Dead

YIKES … major typo meltdown from me mixing up Amercian writers … cheers Ustix. Corrected now.

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Confucius said: He who does not compete shall never be defeated

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The hurler on the ditch

“ If wit was shit , you’d be constipated said by my late mother” ( I’m sure she robbed it )
“ Jesus tell me your mother stopped having kids after you “ my late father to anyone he thought was thick

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My father still tells me that if my brains were made of dynamite I wouldn’t have enough to blow my cap off … hmm …

‘So foul and fair a day, I have not seen’

  • from Macbeth

2015 AI Final … So foul and yet so fair a day :grin:

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Pat Fox has it on his hurl and is motoring well now, but here comes Joe Rabbitte hot on his tail… I’ve seen it all now, a Rabbitte chasing a Fox around Croke Park!

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A gem heard today of me oul wan. Alcohol kills that corona virus. So I sent your brother out to get me a bottle of Bacardi.

My ma cracks me up. There’s reason why I have a “complex”! :sunglasses::sunglasses::sunglasses:

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As a non drinker I must have listened to my Mam; Whiskey when you’re sick makes you well … and when you’re well makes you sick.

`Your smile is your logo, your personality is your business card, how you leave others feeling after an experience with you becomes your trademark…

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N’fheadar

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Now that my ladder’s gone

I must lie down where all the ladders start

In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

W.B. Yeats

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A Yeats fan myself, may I add to your quote above the full text of his a magnificent “No Second Troy” written about his muse (or at least one of his muses)

Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?

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I like coffee, I likes tea,
in the afternoon around 3.

Anonymous

Heard that last in Krugers circa 1983 :wink:

I first heard it in the capital c1992