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It is very important to embrace failure and to do a lot of stuff — as much stuff as possible — with as little fear as possible. It’s much, much better to wind up with a lot of crap having tried it than to overthink in the beginning and not do it.

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Poetry is a theorem of a yellow-silk handkerchief knotted with riddles, sealed in a balloon tied to the tail of a kite flying in a white wind against a blue sky in spring.

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I certainly never feel discouraged. I can’t myself raise the winds that might blow us or this ship into a better world. But I can at least put up the sail so that when the winds comes, I can catch it.

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To me, there’s never been a difference between electronic and acoustic. I’ve always had this idea that electricity is another element like wind or fire or water.

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I do feel my fan base, my community understands me and appreciates me very deeply, and that is the wind in my sails to keep doing what I am doing. I know that my work really inspires people and they tell me that all the time, and so that’s wonderful.

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My dream of happiness: a quiet spot by the Jamaican seashore . . . hearing the wind sob with the beauty and the tragedy of everything. Sitting under an almond tree, with the leaf spread over me like an umbrella.

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Nothing is a courtesy unless it be meant us, and that friendly and lovingly. We owe no thanks to rivers that they carry our boats, or winds that they be favoring and fill our sails, or meats that they be nourishing; for these are what they are necessarily. Horses carry us, trees shade us; but they know it not.

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It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could’st make the time to do so too; I’ll wind thee up no more.

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Chance will not do the work. Chance sends the breeze;<br>But if the pilot slumber at the helm,<br>The very wind that wafts us tow’rds the port<br>May dash us on the shoals. The steersman’s part<br>Is vigilance, or blow it rough or smooth.

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Followers of trails and of seasons, breakers of camp in the little dawn wind, seekers of watercourses over the wrinkled rind of the world, o seekers, o finders of reasons to be up and be gone.

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The surest way to know our gold, is to look upon it and examine it in God’s furnace, where he tries it that we may see what it is. If we have a mind to know whether a building stands strong or not, we must look upon it when the wind blows. If we would know whether a staff be strong, or a rotten, broken reed, we must observe it when it is leaned on and weight is borne upon it. If we would weigh ourselves justly we must weigh ourselves in God’s scales that he makes use of to weigh us.

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I think it makes people frustrated when they have to live their actual lives commercial free and they can’t just magically wind up at the part with the happy ending.

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All four winds together can’t bring the world to me Shadows cast a play of light, so much I want to see Chase the sun around the world, I want to look at life-In the Available Light. I’ll go with the wind, I’ll stand in the light.