Friday, April 1, 2016

Fools Who Have Wit

"There are no fools so troublesome as those who have wit."
~ Francois de La Rochefoucauld (1613 - 1680) ~

. . . and certainly LOST some things!

I know this card has appeared on my blog before, but guess what? I've forgotten where! Appropriately enough for April Fools Day, I have spent the entire day fooling myself, hour after hour searching, searching searching (unsuccessfully . . . grrrr) for an Anna Quindlen article, a John Masefield poem, a batch of family vacation photographs, some long forgotten Easter poems (something about a steeple against an April sky "and I grew small again"; and another one about hearing church bells and the voice of God). Will I ever remember where I have filed them?

And one more thing -- a great quotation about what a strange world this would be if there were no coincidences! Something to the effect that a day without coincidences is way more rare than a day with coincidences. Now, where did I read that or see it? And why can't I relocate it? I need that quote!

from CreakyJoints
Somehow this one reminds me of several
Bibliography & Research classes that I took in Graduate School.

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!

P.S. Found it! "Another Monday"


And I found the Easter quotations!

3 comments:

  1. More losses:
    Teacup & teapot earrings
    Bicycle Key
    What next?

    ReplyDelete
  2. https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10200814992764602&set=a.1220677324535.34236.1456981159&type=3&theater

    ReplyDelete
  3. SEA FEVER

    I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
    And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
    And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

    I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
    Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
    And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
    And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

    I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
    To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
    And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
    And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

    BY JOHN MASEFIELD

    ReplyDelete