“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away.”—Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (via decrepito)
Bits and pieces of the first half of Markings by Dag Hammarskjold
*If only I may grow: firmer, simpler, quieter, warmer.
*… A grace to pray for - that our self-interest, which is inescapable, shall never cripple our sense of humor, that fully conscious self-scrutiny which alone can save us.
*Why this desire in all of us, that after we have disappeared, the thoughts of the living shall now and again dwell upon our name? Our name. Anonymous immortality we cannot even escape. The consequences of our lives and actions can no more be erased than they can be identified and duly labeled - to our honor or our shame. “The poor ye have always with you.” The dead too.
*When the conflicting currents of the unconscious create engulfing whirlpools, the water can again be guided into a single current if the dam sluice be opened into the channel of prayer - and if that channel has been dug deep enough.
*Atonement for the guilt you carry because of your good fortune: without pity for yourself or others, to give all you are, and thus justify, at least morally, what you possess, knowing that you only have a right to demand anything of others so long as you follow this course.
Darkness lit up by beams
Seeking its counterpart
Striving for liberation
In a word
How seldom growth and blossom
How seldom fruit
*We are not permitted to chose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours. He who wills adventure will experience it - according to the measure of his courage. He who wills sacrifice will be sacrificed - according to the measure of his purity of heart.
*God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die in the day when our lives cease to be illuminated by steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.