And in that line now was a whiskered old man, with a linen cap and a crooked nose, who waited in a place called the Stardust Band Shell to share his part of the secret of heaven: that each affects the other and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.
Mitch Albom in The Five People You Meet in Heaven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Whatever It May Be that Affects
What,
Ever it may be that affects...
You have it in yourself,
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects,
You have it in yourself...
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
A loneliness you wish to rid!
Whatever it may be that affects.
Emotions breeding to feed on fears!
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Heartbreak that can not escape the aching.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
You gave to it now from you erase it!
Whatever it may be that affects,
You have it in yourself...
To disconnect it.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Let it go!
Don't let it upset.
Whatever it may be that affects.
Whatever it may be that affects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stories
Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Stories
Every year has its own stories in this life,
Every month has its own stories in this life,
Every week has its own stories in this life,
Every day has its own stories in this life,
Every hour has its own stories in this life,
Every minute has its own stories in this life,
And like the muse of the mind as we grow up;
So, we are all with stories to tell in this world.
As white as snow,
As red as blood,
As balck as charcoal,
As green as the grass,
As blue as the sky;
But everybody has stories to tell in this world!
And like the muse o love in the land of beauty,
For each year has its own story.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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If You Were Me
If you were me
And i was you
If you had to play my part out
What would you do
Two crazy stories,
Two different views
If you were me
And i was you
If you were me
And i was you
What kind of crazy things
Would i have to do
Who likes to party
Who stays at home
If you were me
And i was you
Never like strangers
Though never the same
Two circus side-shows
And laughter in the rain
You stay with the full moon
You search for the stars
Thank god it's heaven
Here we both are
If you were me
And i was you
If you had to play my part out
What would you do
Two crazy stories,
Two different views
If you were me, if you were me
If you were me and i was you
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.
quote by Martin Luther King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.
quote by Martin Luther King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories For Boys
Theres a place I go,
And it is far away.
Theres a tv show,
And I can grow.
Sometimes the hero takes me,
Sometimes I dont let go.
Theres a picture book
With more than moans and groans.
Theres a comic strip
That makes me laugh.
Sometimes I let it take me.
Sometimes I dont let go,
I wont let go.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys.
Theres a place I go,
And it is far away.
Theres a radio,
And I will crawl.
Sometimes the hero takes me.
Sometimes I dont let go.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys...
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mirror On Wall
mirror on wall
what stories you tell
a lie or a tale
of my only friend
you show me what i wanna see
a pigment of the future
a broken shell of the past
i look to you for answer
but you just look back
i cry to you for an answer
but tears just come out of you eye
i miss our conversation
little said but so much was told
we share the same pain
but you carry all the blame
maybe love isn't for us
maybe it was always meant to be
just us
no one to hear our cries
no one there to dry our eyes
so we hold on to each other
and share our stories
we stay strong and fall apart together
so sitting here staring through
these mirrors i see my past
my present and future to
and all i see is me and you
poem by Robert Roberts
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Letter to vengful psychic
How could you say
all those lies to me?
especially when I sent you all
those cards of Melodie.
Melodie is my child within
if you care,
how could you even dare?
What affects her,
affects me,
she is my E.T.
“How can you
use your psychic power
for bad?
That is absurd and very sad.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Stories
when we were young stories were told
That I'd kiss you sweet like
People said there was a connection between us
Now that we're old stories are told
Of how I hold you tight
Whenever I see those people I tell them they were right
Stories will be told
From when our children are young
until they're old
About our endless love
We must have had a blessing from above
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Until the sun won't rise
Oh
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories We Could Tell
By: john b. sebastian
1974
Talkin to myself again
Wonderin if this travellin is good
Is there somethin else a doin
Wed be doin if we could
Chorus:
But ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories we could tell
Stared at that guitar in that museum in tennessee
Nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
Scars upon the face told of all the times he fell
Singin all the stories he could tell
Chorus:
Ah, the stories he could tell
And Ill bet you it still rings like a bell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
And listen to the stories it could tell
So if youre on the road trackin down your every night
Playin for a livin beneath brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride the carousel
You do it for the stories you can tell
Ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Just listen to the stories we could tell
Coda:
Yes, I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories it could tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most politicians - those people who live, eat and breathe politics - like to sit around and talk about politics and tell political war stories. Reagan didn't do that. His war stories were movie war stories and Hollywood war stories. He loved that.
quote by Lyn Nofziger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, religion has been passed down through the years by stories people tell around the campfire. Stories about God, stories about love. Stories about good spirits and evil spirits.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Stories
some stories
about ourselves
are also the stories of
themselves
and then we write
these stories and
pretend that these are
but some short stories
from our mind
now in different names
and places
we read them and then
we wish that some of
these short stories
are not true at all
sometimes for those
we want to be
we want to believe
them to be true
wishes and hopes and
regrets, what if? what if i
chose that rather than this?
we poets write about pain
and joys and we tell sometimes
that we only fake them
deep inside we are silent
we prefer just to be left alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You see, I was told stories, we were all told stories as kids in Nigeria. We had to tell stories that would keep one another interested, and you weren't allowed to tell stories that everybody else knew. You had to dream up new ones.
To share our stories is not only a worthwhile endeavor for the storyteller, but for those who hear our stories and feel less alone because of it.
quote by Joyce Maynard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why it hurts so
The world is a controversial place,
We don’t mean what we say.
Does yes really mean yes;
Are words just barbaric plays?
We create exquisite phrases
That inspires us, warms us within.
But it seems this hope is just fleeting;
And soon to collapse, all demolished.
We tell our young fairy stories,
Grotesque for real they might be.
But in life there are no fairy tales—
Stories are not modified for you and me.
The world is a controversial place,
Especially here, in the human world.
Sympathy is only practiced limitedly,
While self-intrest is our main goal.
The world is a controversial place,
It applies just too right for me.
“For Dreams, we live, ” This was my motto.
But now,
It shatters me.
Some of those stories in local newspapers are just as dull and boring as the stories that I get from on-line services, which are basically sort of straight news.
quote by Tabitha Soren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A place called hell
Some one reminded me of a place called hell
Lonely place where every one is doing well
All let loose strange stories around
No basis whatsoever or any images are found
No one may argue in favor of a hell
Generally all may not favor it at all
In their opinion they all did well to be in heaven
Though they have no faint idea even
They have done nothing to find place in this place
They did all whatever they could do to malign the race
At final time they decided to donate some tip of wealth
They knew it well at end of the game with deterioration in health
Some one may go even further to advocate
In the memory of parents some good steps they will indicate
Raising of temple or some orphanage in their name
At least this will save them for some shame
They have all praise for departed soul
The soul had lived noble life with no mistakes or foul
The God only knew how noble and honest he was?
The end was imminent but this was only pause
The heaven has many exits and inlets
Only innocent and nobles are let
Rest all sent to very nice place called hell
There they will spend their life very well
So if some one is referring heaven we should take it for hell
All horrified stories are known to all but now no need to tell
Human ears are not used to hear unpleasant remarks
Though they praise dear ones with full marks
How the hell can be different from atmosphere?
Why the people get afraid with so much fear?
When it is known that only nice people with have entry?
Rest all will be waiting in sun without shed of the tree
Well it is generally accepted that there is another world
Where there is no foe or friend or hot and cold
Everything is same and no difficulty at all
Still untruth may block it like wall
I fearlessly taught and advocated about good or bad
There is nothing to be felt as pain, agony or remain sad
The end may be peaceful and all set to depart
There may be found two gates painted with art
It will remind us of our past
The life might have been over very fast
It was now turn to pack up and say good bye
Even though we had lived happily with very good try
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Stories We Could Tell
Talkin to myself again
Wondering if this travelin is good
Is there something better wed be doing if we could
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
Remember that guitar in a museum in tennessee
And the nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
And the scratches on the face
Told of all the times he fell
Singin every story he could tell
And oh the stories it could tell
And I bet you it still rings like a bell
And I wish we could sit back on the bed in some motel
And listen to the stories we could tell
So if youre on the road tracking down here every night
And youre singin for a livin neath the brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride this carousel
You did it for the stories you could tell
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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