StevenBrisson:
One who walks in another's tracks leaves no footprints.
StevenBrisson:
There are two kinds of light: the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.
StevenBrisson:
Discarded Pumpkins
StevenBrisson:
Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.
StevenBrisson:
Monday in Seattle: #2 of 4 (Explore, #2)
StevenBrisson:
Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping.
StevenBrisson:
Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.
StevenBrisson:
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance.
StevenBrisson:
As the seasons alter, frosts fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
StevenBrisson:
A closed mind stumbles over the blessings of life without recognizing them.
StevenBrisson:
Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.
StevenBrisson:
You should enter a ballpark the way you enter a church.
StevenBrisson:
There is no blue without yellow and without orange.
StevenBrisson:
Neither a wise nor a brave man lies down on the tracks of history to wait for the train of the future to run over him.
StevenBrisson:
This donut has purple in the middle, purple is a fruit.
StevenBrisson:
A first rate soup is better than a second rate painting. (Explore, #216)
StevenBrisson:
There comes a time in every life when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your heart.
StevenBrisson:
The greatest event for the world is the arrival of a new and wise person.
StevenBrisson:
I have never developed indigestion from eating my words.
StevenBrisson:
I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.
StevenBrisson:
Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower.
StevenBrisson:
We all leave footprints in the sand, the question is: will we be a big heal or a great soul?
StevenBrisson:
I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.
StevenBrisson:
Kites rise highest against the wind, not with it.
StevenBrisson:
The trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close-up. (Explore)
StevenBrisson:
Monday in Seattle (#4 of 4)
StevenBrisson:
Silence on a hill where the path ended, and then the forest below moving in one long whisper as evening touched the leaves.
StevenBrisson:
Men are like steel. When they lose their temper, they lose their worth.
StevenBrisson:
Art is never finished, only abandoned.
StevenBrisson:
For every minute you're angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.
