Familiarity
Do not be familiar
Too much familiarity breeds contempt.
Do not be greedy
All covet all lost.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sinning To Many Is A Frightening Premise
A familiarity may breed contempt.
And that encompasses,
A host of influences.
Having a familiarity,
May also include...
Some experiences achieved.
But an ignorance that breeds contempt,
Says a lot about one's limitations.
And the ease by which,
One who is thoughtless 'and' mindless too...
Can be programmed to self destruct.
Based on the feeding of fear alone.
And many people do,
Self destruct within minds stuck.
And fear to those ignorant,
Is as familiar to them...
As is their lack of knowledge.
Which also to them is treated like a sin.
And sinning to many like this,
Is a frightening premise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Familiarity breeds contempt; distance breeds respect.
Familiarity with evil breeds not contempt but acceptance.
quote by Roy Hattersley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My philosophy is familiarity breeds contempt.
quote by Chaka Khan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Familiarity breeds contempt, while rarity wins admiration.
There can be no prestige without mystery, for familiarity breeds contempt.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Familiarity breeds contempt - and children.
Mark Twain in Notebooks (1935)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In politics, familiarity doesn't breed contempt. It breeds votes.
quote by Paul Lazarsfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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'Free' is more of that 'familiarity breeds contempt' kind of thing. It's about saying 'Wait, I'm longing for something more than I have and I don't know what it is that I want, but I know I want it.' It has nothing to do with what I'm going through, personally.
quote by Jon Crosby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and familiarity breeds contempt. According to this my soul mate should be in Thailand.
quote by Jason Zebehazy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Such Thing as Wickedness Only with the Rich Ones...
once he pitied the poor
wanted to take them all from
poverty
like weeds from a garden
where he dream
only of flowers
then he mingled with them
lived with them
immersed in them
only to find out that they are
no less different
than him
they are kind
and must be understood
beyond that
kindness
at some point
as in any other case
familiarity breeds contempt
and he becomes
like anyone of them
suspicious, insecure,
greedy, and always
discontented
and they rob him
and killed him and he was
not able to tell
what was it that he hated
with the poor
i didn't know too.
i don't want to be one
neither do i wish to live with any one of them
nor immerse myself some more
into such a distress
we all have our share
of the chunks of this valley of
tears
again that is fair enough
rich or poor
same human weaknesses are there
this avarice, this greed
and to some extent
this capacity to go beyond all these
in due time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Familiarity With A New Born Day
the cocks still crow this early morning
same footfalls passing and stamping on the road
the same trails from the house to the market to the church
back home and same sounds of the gate opening and closing
and same chill of the air from the sea to the mountain
over and over again on this familiarity from day one to day one hundred
till the thousandth
this familiarity that breeds contempt
it is trying to kill us all
but there is this thing inside that keeps burning
this fire this light
it tells us keep going for one day this boredom that tries to kill us
shall soon be a big day for you and for all of us
nirvana, heaven, rebirth, the dusts that stick on our feet
wanting to be alive again and be the flowers under the gentle rain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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But we're very much an American band and that's that. I think that's part of the appeal outside of this country and it might be part of the reason people turned away from us within this country, because familiarity breeds contempt.
quote by Michael Stipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Strangers And Love Huts....
when we were strangers
i think we were more interested with each other
too much familiarity you must know
breeds contempt and
we forget the first laughter inside the bus
when we were heading for that love hut
inside the love hut when the lights were turned off
we imagine ourselves singing those old love songs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Modern Dancing
Modern, modern, modern, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
I see you acting modernly with the boys and girls
Exposure breeds discovery in the modern world
The 60's hairdos 90's eyes are just flashing lights
A touch of neon hinting class for the modern night
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
Mono vision tv face and determined eyes
The clothes are perfect the rips in place just the perfect size
Familiarity breeds contempt but it doesn't show
We've heard the music times before but it still makes you go
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, dancing
....variations to fade....
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too much familiarity breeds contempt
Too much familiarity, all the questions answered not just by yes or no
The explanations as demanded all enumerated, and there are no extrapolations needed,
At the last notice, I think I have spoiled you like my first lover,
In giving everything, everything is totally lost, and parting has become inevitable
With you now, I have given trust, but now with limitations however,
It is not selfishness, it is something else, it is to keep you because there is something in you
That makes me alive somehow, you make me breathe, and you have given me a space
Somehow, I must withhold a little bit about myself, to make this love work,
Now when you ask, I will either make some white lies, and later some big lies or be silent
So not everything in me is taken away, and you will think that I am not at all consumed
I am sweet, I will be sweeter still in some measurable unknowns, and you will taste these,
With a note, that not all that is sweet shall be given, some will be bland and even bitter,
I want to keep you for a while; we will be talking some more, like sweet lovers
Whispering nothings, I will confuse you a little bit about some beginnings, I will swerve
Away a little bit, away from your closeness, this too much familiarity that is slowly
Breeding contempt, this familiarity that destroys and has no power to recreate.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some Random Thoughts
the way things fall apart may seem a rude shock but there should be some reason somewhere for them to fall apart or unify...
when there are people to give, will there be dearth of takers? Yes, there will be if you don’t give what they want or need!
i'm in 'search' so or you-you'll understand the finding in your language and i, in mine. in language lies the difference the way truth gets revealed. 'search, any way! '
not only from womb to tomb (doesn't it sound a cliche?) that we are all alike...in between too, all our needs are one and the same!
affinity breeds contempt is what we all know. but to me more than contempt it breeds 'taken-for-granted-ness. ' i think that's worse than contempt!
standing on cliff of desire arms stretch towards the empty space and down below, everything looks remote and vaguely familiar!
just occured: why is it always 'fall in love? ' is 'fall' indicative of subsequent cuts and bruises?
however much we may like to idealize silence, we do need verbal communication to straighten several conflicts. silence is only a filler that consolidates all that's expressed.
uncertainty is worse than virus...
when heart is filled with the beloved, it's either wholesome or lonesome...
to assume and talk on something and to know and talk, isn't there an ocean of difference between the two?
silence definitely eloquent. silence undoubtedly expressive. but to experience those moments of eloquence and expression, don't you think we do need some communication
with whom you find yourself all in one piece/with whom you experience bliss and joy/that's where lies your final refuge
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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