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People hear that and say I'm being modest, but I am not a modest person, but I have to be truthful about what I'm doing and what I'm doing is channeling.
quote by Morgan Freeman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Attlee is a very modest man. Indeed he has a lot to be modest about.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Attlee is a very modest man. Indeed he has a lot to be modest about.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is modesty a virtue?
She is modest, who hides her beauty.
It is she who hides her defects too.
She is modest, who conceals her love.
It is she who buries her infidelity too.
01.05.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As Broad As It's Long
MODEST men must needs endure,
And the bold must humbly bow;
Thus thy fate's the same, be sure,
Whether bold or modest thou.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Gardener XXVI: What Comes From Your Willing Hands
"What comes from your willing
hands I take. I beg for nothing
more."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
"If there be a stray flower for me
I will wear it in my heart."
"But if there be thorns?"
"I will endure them."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
"If but once you should raise your
loving eyes to my face it would make
my life sweet beyond death."
"But if there be only cruel
glances?"
"I will keep them piercing my
heart."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The modest vs. the immodest
A modest woman differs from an
Immodest one in that the modest one
Withdraws the moment she feels her
Passion for a man is detected by him
Whereas the immodest one prolongs her Affairs till others also detect it.
25.02.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Modest Life....[LONG; Personal; Humor]
i grew up in a modest home. the nearby country i did roam.
modest were my mom and dad. four modest siblings i also had.
geneva was a modest town. at graduation i wore a modest cap and gown.
(ok….my cap had a gold tassel. about that, please don't give me a hassle.)
then i modestly went to cornell; that i'd quit three years later who could tell?
i modestly quit my church beliefs. that there's no hell, for me i'm betting.
i became a conscientious objector and worked two years in hospital setting.
i roomed in a modest home. by foot, bike, and bus i did roam.
then i shared an apartment with brother don. i did modest jobs for modest wages.
my general appearance i think was plain. i was modest, ….not vain.
except for occasional, mild 'depression', it seemed i had not a care.
then (past twenty-five years old) i sought a partner from the sex pool more fair.
first wife (pam) was not so modest…..if by modest one means plain.
she gave birth to our modest daughter (shannon) ....... after a short labor but lots of pain.
pam and i shared five modest homes, and we had a modest dog.
we had a modest divorce....though nine years together we did log.
then i had modest apartments and two modest girlfriends, and kept my modest postal job.
then i married and divorced wife two (debbie) , .....she was at times irrational and a slob.
my very modest yugo i replaced with a honda, the last of my modest cars.
the end of marriage to third wife (donna) i blame (in part) on her emotional lifetime scars.
in 2004 i retired 'early'…. as post office chose to downsize.
at the time i lived in modest comfort.... in a senior citizen highrise.
i modestly pursued volunteer work as i'd done on and off since '86.
with no ties binding me i moved to hometown geneva; some would call it 'move to the sticks'.
i spent a modest few months in cousin's apartment. eye to eye we did not see, .......
so i got my own modest place near college fieldhouse, and walked indoor track for a modest fee.
i found a modest café, 'flour petal', and many modest hours there i enjoyed.
i wrote poems, and........with thoughts of a new partner i no longer toyed.
i met a modest new friend angel. he, it turned out, had some 'issues'.
i made a modest bed of banana boxes, and blew my nose on toilet tissues.
i developed mild hypertension. it seems in control now without pills.
i walked roads and sidewalks in modest shoes, wore modest clothes with no frills.
then a former postal customer, and old guy, henry, 'said': ‘find a geneva woman on the internet'.
he jarred me into action, and that's how my present wife i 'met'.
after a month of emails we met in ithaca (new york state) , though she lived on the west coast.
did she find me irresistable? i don't know, ......and i shall not boast.
she lured me to join her, in san carlos, in her new, not-so-modest-but-small house.
my wife also has a small though not-so-modest car, a prius, which can be quiet as a mouse.
i flew here on a trial basis but stayed to share our lives together.
i'm still a modest guy, trying not to be spoiled by the mild san francisco bay area weather.
i've had a modest ponytail, and i'm modest about my child's success.
but i've eaten a few immodest restaurant meals. they weren't my idea......as you might guess.
i'd say our tv set's not modest, but it's only used to watch library flicks.
(by 'modest' i mean plain or simple; with luxury i seldom mix.)
but i'm not COMPLETELY modest when it comes to my self-image. [ I THINK I'M REALLY GREAT! ]
i have lots of common sense, and......i'm very seldom ever late.
(Jan. and Aug.2011)
poem by Bri Edwards
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The Violet
DOWN in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colour bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
poem by Ann Taylor
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The Violet
Down in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colour bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
poem by Jane Taylor
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Pansy: Song-Words
IN a crooked angle
Of a garden bower,
'Neath a weedy tangle
Grew a modest flower;
Unpretending, unoffending,
Gifted but with fancy,
Unassuming in his blooming
Grew that modest pansy.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Hope springs anew;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
Comes a maiden bashful,
Wandering here and there,
With her silken sash full
Of roses rich and rare;
Slow she takes them, dewless shakes them
In her shapely fingers,
While to choose some for her bosom
Lazily she lingers.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Modest in hue;
Sweet fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
With a lover's anguish
For her glance he sought,
On her breast to languish
Was his daring thought;
If he perished by her cherished,
Life was worth the leaving;
But she passes 'midst the grasses,
And she leaves him grieving!
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Sorrow for you;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Good Little Girls
Although of native maids the cream,
We're brought up on the English scheme -
The best of all
For great and small
Who modesty adore.
For English girls are good as gold,
Extremely modest (so we're told),
Demurely coy - divinely cold -
And we are that - and more.
To please papa, who argues thus -
All girls should mould themselves on us,
Because we are,
By furlongs far,
The best of all the bunch;
We show ourselves to loud applause
From ten to four without a pause -
Which is an awkward time because
It cuts into our lunch.
Oh, maids of high and low degree,
Whose social code is rather free,
Please look at us and you will see
What good young ladies ought to be!
And as we stand, like clockwork toys,
A lecturer papa employs
To puff and praise
Our modest ways
And guileless character -
Our well-known blush - our downcast eyes -
Our famous look of mild surprise
(Which competition still defies) -
Our celebrated "Sir!!!"
Then all the crowd take down our looks
In pocket memorandum books.
To diagnose,
Our modest pose
The kodaks do their best:
If evidence you would possess
Of what is maiden bashfulness,
You only need a button press -
And WE do all the rest.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Another ******* rant...
Emotion recollected in
Tranquillity? Not.
British Telecom has this time
added to my modest bill
£4.50 ($ 9, right?) for
‘processing’ my payment.
That’s 10% of my modest bill..
the bloody nerve.
So what about the cost to me
of ‘processing’ my bill?
The costly stamp I’m lucky
if I’ve got; the mental effort
of having to spell out the figures
on the cheque, in case someone
alters them; the walking to the postbox..
what makes them think I’m not doing this
in my expensive working hours, for which
I charge a consultation fee?
I see they’ve even set up
a separate company to ‘process’…
bet that was cheap… Though of course
I could follow their ‘complaints procedure’
and phone them… ‘ we are sorry but
our lines are Very Busy…your phone call
is important to us…please hold the line…’
So tell me, why shouldn’t I… charge them? …
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Modest Mouse
To the modest mouse,
Whose home, remotely shrouded
With the clutters of the cat's fallen eyesight,
Filled with such vitriol that none could grasp with coarse palms
And the cat, in her abode
Flourishing with jewels that glint like her devotion
To the pleasurable amenities of beauty and splendor
Why, have the heavens lost such bountiful ardor?
The lynx, the beau of indifference, forsaken with lips of crimson red,
Embedded with jewelry in a variation of halycon, sapphire, zircon
Inquisitive mouse, 'You glint so much, you fade in the light.'
Cat quips, irate with claws razor sharp, 'I beg your pardon? '
Oh, such absence of complications
As he prances across the wood, with reflux of blood in his tail,
Only exhibiting a weary face, of tombstone pale;
The cat walks eloquently, only embellishing what pride she has
Walking on thin, rusting wires with such prowess,
The modest mouse, puzzled, bewildered by such striding,
Resembling a hurricane, whose tempestuous whirling hurls edges that lacerate,
'There is no need to act like this! ' the mouse, judgment in surfeit
With such strife, arrogant like a lion,
The cat moves in sync with celestial aeons
With her whiskers, beaming towards the horizon,
None of this, the modest mouse could ever fathom
The modest mouse's confusion, 'Why pounce in such exuberant poise? '
Untoward feline's retalitation, 'Insecurity is a blight.' with such metallic alloy
The modest mouse, was not precarious, his eyes were too good for decoys
The cat's carnal eyes luster with so much flamboyance.
The modest mouse, in pure content, seeing his pale color of gray,
'You are charcoal gray, you should revel.' He told himself humbly.
And subtly, with silent distinctions, the cat stood behind the modest mouse,
With a condescending smirk in her face, for she is adorned in a multitude of colors.
'You seem to shine, like the rainbow! ' Oh, such humility this mouse beholds
The humility that withstands the fiery Summer, and the winter cold.
'I am, more than the rainbow.' Of this you see, the feral audacity?
With such depth, does she serenade herself incessantly.
'Your tail is horrendous! ' Said the cat, waving her emerald tail
Comparatively seeing, careening over her distinctions, the arrogance is ubiquitous.
Thus, the modest mouse cannot be stopped, he stood presumptuously,
Assuming a stance on all fours, with a face as meek as a lily.
The days metamorphosed into grueling centuries,
Withering the cat, stripping her of vanities,
With such disdain, the cat uttered, 'Why do I resemble you! '
And the mouse has spoken valiantly, 'Your vanity has altered your hue.'
The cat, vilified with the statement
Quivering at the mere sight of her shabby self,
The modest mouse stood behind her, nonchalantly,
'See, without vanity, there's is such ample beauty.'
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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I'm quite modest. I don't want to tell people I'm a leader.
I had a very modest upbringing.
quote by Balthazar Getty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you are too modest, then you will go hungry.