- Heart , emotionally
the "bone" of our humanity .
Some people have made it full of dirt .
Even , in touch of emotion , some hearts
burst & some have been vanished by
stuffing dust . It is mocking that few
people have made it only with lust ,
& hearts have become only a
"heart shell" just . Yes, we have
forgotten the emotion & to
be honest , all are busy
to build their own
nest. "Save the
heart ".
❣

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Lock up your libraries if you like;
but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt
that you can set upon
the freedom of my mind.


Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

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"The real importance of reading is that
it creates an ease and intimacy with
the process of writing; one comes to
the country of the writer with one's papers
and identification pretty much in order.

Constant reading will pull you into a place
(a mind-set, if you like the phrase) where
you can write eagerly and without
self-consciousness. It also offers you
a constantly growing knowledge of
what has been done and what hasn't,
what is trite and what is fresh, what works
and what just lies there dying (or dead)
on the page.

The more you read, the less apt you are
to make a fool of yourself with your pen
or word processor. . . .
'[R]ead a lot, write a lot' is the
great commandment."

Stephen King

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"My poet's heart gives me
strength to face political problems,
particularly those which have
a bearing on my conscience."

- Atal Bihari Vajpayee

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We are responsible for what we are, and whatever we wish ourselves to be, we have the power to make ourselves. If what we are now has been the result of our own past actions, it certainly follows that whatever we wish to be in the future can be produced by our present actions; so we have to know how to act.


Swami Vivekananda

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Did you know?

George Orwell intentionally got
himself arrested for being
“drunk and incapable", in 1931. 
At the time, he had been using
the pseudonym Edward Burton
and posing as a poor fish porter. 

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I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring –

afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.


— Louise Glück

(extract from Snowdrops)

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