Swearing is like any other music... If it is not done well, if it is not done with a fine and discriminating art, and vitalized with gracious and heartborn feeling, it lacks beauty, it lacks charm, it lacks expression, it lacks nobleness, it lacks majesty...
David Gridley in Indiantown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Sincerity outweighs.
Intelligence and beauty
Will fail a wife to hold her man
If she lacks sincerity.
If she lacks fidelity
Even a concubine will lose her man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The husband who lacks affection is like a house that lacks a roof.
Just because a man lacks the use of his eyes doesn't mean he lacks vision.
quote by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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About The Good Quality
He is sincere who
Is calculative or
Lacks faith in himself.
He is faithful who
Is purposeful or
Lacks faith in himself.
Good quality
Is a strategy
Or from weakness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tri-women
Oorvasy is tempting;
Janaky lacks pleasing;
Sakuntala is the both.
Oorvasi lacks love;
Janaky lacks lust;
Sakuntala has the both.
Of oorvasi you’re tired;
Of janaky you’re bored;
Of sakuntala you’re stirred.
You’re mad of oorvasi;
You’re proud of janaky;
You’re glad of sakuntala.
Oorvasi is a waterfall;
Janaky is a pond;
Sakuntala is a river.
Flirt with Oorvasi,
Consort with Janaky,
If not done with Sakuntala
Girls, Mould as Sakuntala
26.04.2002, pakd
[Urvasi is Devas’ beauty, Seetha is virtuous queen and Sakuntal is king’s lovely wom
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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She Who Lacks His Touch
She who lacks his touch
She with lack of trust
Only to remain in dust
She who wants no luck
What she would give for lust
She with lack of trust
Her eyes have bled with time
Her life not to remain in line
What she would give for lust
She who lacks his trust
Her image has began to change
Her reflection is not the same
Her grip tightens on the brush
She with lack of trust
This anger can not remain
Something has to change
She who lacks his trust
What she will do for lust
The knife once used for peeling
Now lay under her pillow
Her presence will now be felt
She who lacks his trust
The time has come
The final dance begun
She gets his final touch
What she has done for lust
poem by Morgan Bodden
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A writer
Out of what, does a writer write?
Out of hatred, out of denial,
Out of failure, out of perversion,
Out of insult or out of neglect.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger, anguish and agony.
To bend his feelings in catharsis.
From what does he write?
From borrowings, being inspired,
Or pouring old wine into a new bottle.
For what purpose does he write?
For an applause, to show his skills
And to earn a place and money.
Why at all must he write?
For an idler, what else can he do?
What lacks in one’s writing?
His concern for you lacks.
Your vow to pursue it lacks.
He writes and forgets
You read and forget.
When you are gone and when he is gone
The relevance to his writings is gone.
Bubbles are formed and burst.
12.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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When a man lacks mental balance in pneumonia he is said to be delirious. When he lacks mental balance without the pneumonia, he is pronounced insane by all smart doctors.
quote by Martin H. Fischer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One who lacks a sense of justice lacks certain fundamental attitudes and capacities included under the notion of humanity. Now the moral feelings are admittedly unpleasant, in some extended sense of unpleasant; but there is no way for us to avoid a liability to them without disfiguring ourselves. This liability is the price of love and trust, of friendship and affection, and of devotion to institutions and traditions from which we have benefited and which serve the general interests of mankind... by understanding what it would be like not to have a sense of justice - that it would be to lack part of our humanity too - we are led to accept our having this sense.
John Rawls in A Theory of Justice (1971)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Manali - the Land of Gods
I always wondered why this place,
was called the land of Gods.
With harsh cold and mountain folds,
With loneliness and uneven moulds,
Without comforts and anything mod,
I didnýt know why it was called the Gods.
When I got the opportunity,
I decided to see,
Whether what I had heard was truth or hearsay.
Although I find it difficult to climb,
I agreed to join this treacherous mime.
When I arrived at the camp site,
I was dumbstruck and beholden with the sight,
Which stood before my very eyes.
Snow covered mountains, gushing streams, and the beautiful sunrise. And as I saw the various moods,
Of nature and it's various goods,
I slowly started to understand,
Why it is called the Land of God,
Despite the lack of anything mod.
Because the grass here is green,
And not the brown with which the cities teem.
Because the water here is pure,
And does not require a testing gear.
Because the birds here are free,
And not caged-in, as we see.
This land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the mountains here reach up to heaven,
And are not like the Sahyadris all paven.
Because the wind here spreads fragrance,
Not dust, smoke, and other jargon.
Because the flowers here naturally bloom,
And are not forced to grow in pots to face their doom.
That's why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the lakes here are blue,
And do not stink with the city stew.
Because the people here are simple,
And do not show off false smiles and dimples.
Because everything here is pure and natural,
This land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Because the sun sets over a spectacular horizon,
And does not have to hide behind concrete prisons.
Because the jungles here are full of trees,
Where all components of nature mingle free.
Because at night we can see the stars,
which are not blocked out by the city lights spread afar.
That's why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
Seeing the Jogini waterfall,
And the Lammergeyer rock tall,
Listening about the Bhrugu Lake,
And the pleasure the effort gives and takes,
I came to know why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
And as I go on thinking,
In the spare moments lurking,
Where silently beside the stream,
Or by the tent rim,
I realize the reason,
Why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
And now the time has come for me,
To go back to my own city.
I yearn for this paradise,
Away from the city life.
Because this nature and me,
Share a similar spree,
For life and all it's blooms,
Adjusting to its glooms,
Now I see, why this land which lacks anything mod,
Is called the Land of Gods.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
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Pop is actually my least favorite kind of music, because it lacks real depth.
quote by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I agree with you about the music of today. It lacks style and emotion.
quote by Vinnie Vincent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the word soul has gotta come into it. Music that's created just for consuming lacks that soul, that swing, that feeling.
quote by Michelle Shocked
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Spite of Opposition
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
In spite of oppostion,
Of those who say he lacks experience.
Although he shows qualities,
They themselves have not yet shown.
He is a man of color...
And that they regret.
They rather show images of those of color...
As children needing diapers changed,
Because they are still 'wet'!
And they want this known.
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
And he represents a time...
In which people in the right minds,
Seek an updated image...
Of what others rather see,
Enforcibly diminished!
But a darkness lifts...
To allow those to see,
Truth in reality they can believe.
In spite of opposition...
Conflicts existing,
Seem pointless to keep inflicting.
And the greed of it...
Reveals the minds of those sick,
Who insist to feast upon their wickedness to feed.
And in spite of opposition,
He proves he is the best choice to select...
And to lead.
Whatever he lacks...
He still over his opposition succeeds.
Leaving people to question:
'If he lacks experience...
Why have the people 'experienced' the mess,
His opposition who say they are more qualified...
Digress with such mess and wish for more of it to leave! ? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The scholar knows what she lacks knowledge of.
My poverty is not complete: it lacks me.
quote by Antonio Porchia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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