"True dignity abides with him alone
Who, in the silent hour of inward thought
Can still suspect and still revere himself."

We watched her breathing through the night -- 
  Her breathing soft and low---
As in her breast the wave of life
  Kept heaving to and fro.

So silently we seemed to speak,
  So slowly moved about, 
As we had lent her half our powers
  To eke her living out. 

Our weary hopes belied our fears,
  Our fears our hopes belied;
We thought her dying when she slept,
  And living when she died.

For when the morn came, dim and sad,
  And chill with early showers,
Her quiet eyelids closed; she had
  Another morn than ours. 
Thomas Hood. 

Shyness

This picture by Steve McCurry is fascinating to me, (click on it to enlarge) as so many of his photos are. I was going to just post it alone, but this piece below by Orison S. Marden,  ties in somewhat and either way they are both interesting.

  Many persons of real refinement are thought to be stiff, proud, reserved, and haughty who are not, but are merely diffident and shy.

  It is a curious fact that diffidence often betrays us into discourtesies which our hearts abhor, and which cause us intense mortification and embarrassment.

Excessive shyness must be overcome as an obstacle to perfect manners.

  There are many worthy people who are brave on the street, who would walk up to a cannon’s mouth in battle, but who are cowards in the drawing-room and dare not express an opinion in the social circle. They feel conscious of a subtle tyranny in society’s code, which locks their lips and ties their tongues. Addison was one of the purest writers of English and a perfect master of the pen, but he could scarcely utter a dozen word. In conversation without being embarrassed.

Shakespeare was very shy. He retired from London at forty, and did not try to publish or preserve one of his plays. He took second or third-rate parts on account of his diffidence.

  Generally shyness comes from a person thinking too much about himself – and wondering what other people think about him.

  “I was once very shy,” said Sydney Smith, “but it was not long before I made two very useful discoveries; first, that all mankind were not solely employed in observing me; and next, that shamming was of no use; that the world was very clear-sighted and soon estimated a man at his true value. This cured me.”

What a misfortune it is to go through life apparently encased in ice, yet all the while full of kindly, cordial feeling for one’s fellow men! Shy people are always distrustful of their powers and look upon their lack of confidence as a weakness of lack of ability, when it may indicate quite the reverse. By teaching children early the arts of social life, such as boxing, horseback riding, dancing, elocution, and similar accomplishments, we may do much to overcome the sense of shyness.

The eagerness and freshness of youth.

"Oh, the eagerness and freshness of youth!
How the boy enjoys his food, his sleep, his sports, his companions, his truant days!
His life is an adventure, he is widening his outlook, he is extending his dominion,
he is conquering his kingdom. How cheap are his pleasures, how ready his enthusiasms!
In boyhood I have had more delight on a haymow with two companions and a big dog-- delight that came near intoxication-- than I have ever had in all the subsequent holidays of my life; for realities in after-life are seldom so impressive as imaginations in early life.

 In childhood we turn our thoughts to the country, as to the region of pleasure; we recur to it in old age as a port of rest, and perhaps with that secondary and adventitious gladness which every man feels on reviewing those places, or recollecting those occurrences, that contributed to his youthful enjoyments, and bring him back to the prime of life, when the world was gay and with the blossom of novelty, when mirth wantoned at his side, and hope sparkled before him."

I never tire of the "port of rest" that childhood memories bring. This piece is a combination of Henry W. Beecher and Samuel Johnson. The phrase, "when the world was gay with the blossom of novelty," captures for me much of what I long for and miss from childhood. The nearest I come to this is when traveling to distant destinations where the culture is different and the sights are new and I can drink of the "blossom of novelty." 

Photo by Rarindra Prakarsa. 

Secrets of the successful

Possibilities in Spare Moments

  "One hour a day withdrawn from frivolous pursuits and profitably employed would enable any man of ordinary capacity to master a complete science.

One hour a day would in ten years make an ignorant man a well-informed man.

It would earn enough to pay for two daily and two weekly papers, or eighteen large volumes a year. An hour a day might make all the difference between bare existence and useful, happy living. An hour a day might make – nay, has made – an unknown man a famous one, a useless man a benefactor to his race. Consider, then, the mighty possibilities of two – four – yes, six hours a day that are, on the average, thrown away by young men and women in the restless desire for fun and diversion.

   On the floor of the gold-working room, in the United States Mint at Philadelphia, there is a wooden lattice-work which is taken up when the floor is swept, and the fine particles of gold-dust, thousands of dollars’ yearly are thus saved. So every successful man has a kind of network to catch “the raspings and parings of existence, those leavings of days and wee bits of hours” which most people sweep into the waste of life. He who hoards and turns to account all odd minutes, half hours, unexpected holidays, gaps “between time,” and chasms of waiting for unpunctual persons, achieves results which astonish those who have not mastered this most valuable secret.”

Orison Swett Marden, painting by Seymour J. Guy, Utilizing a Spare Moment. 

  I ran across this picture in a Berkeley Ca. gallery. (click on it for best viewing) Something about it I just love. The photographer is Emerson Matabele and this woman titled, "The Conjure Woman", from Naudada Nepal had the following caption under it.

   Often beauty is not perceived because it exists in the wilderness or because the right eye never comes. 
Adalbert Stifter. 

Opportunities

  “There may not be one chance in a million that you will ever receive unusual aid; but opportunities are often presented which you can improve to good advantage, if you will only act. 

  The lack of opportunity is ever the excuse of a weak, vacillating mind. Opportunities! Every life is full of them. Every lesson is full of them. Every lesson in school or college is an opportunity. Every examination is a chance in life. Every patient is an opportunity. Every newspaper article is an opportunity. Every client is an opportunity. Every sermon is an opportunity. Every business transaction is an opportunity, -- an opportunity to be polite, -- an opportunity to be manly – an opportunity to be honest, -- an opportunity to make friends. Every proof of confidence in you is a great opportunity. Every responsibility thrust upon your strength and your honor is priceless. Existence is the privilege of effort, and when that privilege is met like a man, opportunities to succeed along the line of your aptitude will come faster than you can use them. If a slave like Fred Douglass, who did not even own his body, can elevate himself into an orator, editor, statesman, what ought the poorest white boy to do, who is rich in opportunities compared with Douglas?” Orison Swett Marden. 

  

The following few posts come from a book by Orison Swett Marden titled, "The Secret of Achievement." I posted a few pieces from it regarding rearing children that I like. Working with men in recovery, I find few that were truly invested in by their parents. There are exceptions, but they are few. Most are diamonds in the rough and ooze with potential but have had little mentoring. 

  "A boy has been likened to a hundred weight of good iron, which, in its ordinary form, may not be worth more than a dollar; but, when carbonized into steel, it is worth twice as much; when made into inch screws, a hundred dollars; if drawn into fine wire, five hundred dollars; if changed into fine needles, a thousand dollars; if into small fishhooks, twenty-five hundred dollars; if into minutest watch-screws, three hundred thousand dollars; if into finest hairsprings, one million, five hundred thousand dollars, or sixty times the value of an equal weight of gold. The higher the development, the more hammering, beating, rolling, pounding, and polishing, the more valuable the iron becomes.”