Life Is An Echo
What you send out,
comes back to you.
What you sow,
you reap.
What you give,
you get.
What you see in others,
exists in you.
Do not judge,
so you will not be judged.
Radiate and give love,
and love will come back to you.
Regardless of who you are
or what you do,
If you are looking for
the best way to reap
The most reward
in all areas of life,
You should look
for the good
In every person
and in every situation,
And adopt the Golden Rule
as a way of life.
By Zig Ziglar
Hilary Hinton ‘Zig’ Ziglar was born on 6 November 1926 in Coffee County, Alabama, United States of America, as the tenth of twelve children born to parents John Silas Ziglar and Lila Wescott Ziglar. He became a salesman, a professional motivational speaker, and a writer. Hilary Hinton ‘Zig’ Ziglar passed on at 86 years of age on 28 November 2012 in Plano, Texas, United States of America.
What you send out,
comes back to you.
What you sow,
you reap.
What you give,
you get.
What you see in others,
exists in you.
Do not judge,
so you will not be judged.
Radiate and give love,
and love will come back to you.
Regardless of who you are
or what you do,
If you are looking for
the best way to reap
The most reward
in all areas of life,
You should look
for the good
In every person
and in every situation,
And adopt the Golden Rule
as a way of life.
By Zig Ziglar
Hilary Hinton ‘Zig’ Ziglar was born on 6 November 1926 in Coffee County, Alabama, United States of America, as the tenth of twelve children born to parents John Silas Ziglar and Lila Wescott Ziglar. He became a salesman, a professional motivational speaker, and a writer. Hilary Hinton ‘Zig’ Ziglar passed on at 86 years of age on 28 November 2012 in Plano, Texas, United States of America.
The Power Of Yet
“I don’t get it.”
“I can’t do this.”
“It doesn’t work.”
Take a deep breath. Go for a short stroll. Then add a ‘yet’ to the end of your sentence.
“I don’t get it . . . yet.”
“I can’t do this . . . yet.”
“It doesn’t work . . . yet.”
By Author Unknown
“I don’t get it.”
“I can’t do this.”
“It doesn’t work.”
Take a deep breath. Go for a short stroll. Then add a ‘yet’ to the end of your sentence.
“I don’t get it . . . yet.”
“I can’t do this . . . yet.”
“It doesn’t work . . . yet.”
By Author Unknown
Life A Duty
I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty;
I woke, and found that life was Duty.
Was thy dream then a shadowy lie?
Toil on, poor heart, unceasingly;
And thou shalt find thy dream to be
A truth and noonday light to thee.
By Ellen Sturgis Hooper
Ellen Sturgis Hooper was born on 17 February 1812 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America. She became a poet. Ellen Sturgis Hooper passed on at 36 years of age on 3 November 1848 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America.
I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty;
I woke, and found that life was Duty.
Was thy dream then a shadowy lie?
Toil on, poor heart, unceasingly;
And thou shalt find thy dream to be
A truth and noonday light to thee.
By Ellen Sturgis Hooper
Ellen Sturgis Hooper was born on 17 February 1812 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America. She became a poet. Ellen Sturgis Hooper passed on at 36 years of age on 3 November 1848 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America.
Pessimist Versus Optimist
The pessimist finds fault;
the optimist discovers a remedy.
The pessimist seeks sympathy;
the optimist spreads cheer.
The pessimist criticizes circumstances;
the optimist changes conditions.
The pessimist complains about the apple seeds;
the optimist plants them.
The pessimist imagines impending peril;
the optimist sees signs of prosperity.
The pessimist disparages;
the optimist encourages.
The pessimist creates loneliness;
the optimist finds friends.
The pessimist nibbles at the negative;
the optimist is nourished by the positive.
The pessimist builds barriers;
the optimist removes roadblocks.
The pessimist invents trouble;
the optimist enriches the environment.
By William A. Ward
William Arthur Ward was born on 17 December 1921 in Louisiana, United States of America. He became a Private in the United States Army in 1942, and left the military four years later as a Captain. He then attended McMurry University before eventually receiving a Master’s Degree from Oklahoma State University. William Arthur Ward was the writer of the column “Pertinent Proverbs” in the Fort Worth “Star-Telegram” newspaper, author of the book “Fountains of Faith” (1970), and the writer of more than 100 articles and poems that were published in magazines including “Reader’s Digest,” “The Christian Home,” and “Sunshine.” He was an editor, teacher, motivational speaker, college administrator, and a pastor. He served on the board of directors for several nonprofit organizations. He is perhaps best remembered as one of America’s most quoted writers of inspirational maxims. William Arthur Ward passed on at 72 years of age on 30 March 1994.
The pessimist finds fault;
the optimist discovers a remedy.
The pessimist seeks sympathy;
the optimist spreads cheer.
The pessimist criticizes circumstances;
the optimist changes conditions.
The pessimist complains about the apple seeds;
the optimist plants them.
The pessimist imagines impending peril;
the optimist sees signs of prosperity.
The pessimist disparages;
the optimist encourages.
The pessimist creates loneliness;
the optimist finds friends.
The pessimist nibbles at the negative;
the optimist is nourished by the positive.
The pessimist builds barriers;
the optimist removes roadblocks.
The pessimist invents trouble;
the optimist enriches the environment.
By William A. Ward
William Arthur Ward was born on 17 December 1921 in Louisiana, United States of America. He became a Private in the United States Army in 1942, and left the military four years later as a Captain. He then attended McMurry University before eventually receiving a Master’s Degree from Oklahoma State University. William Arthur Ward was the writer of the column “Pertinent Proverbs” in the Fort Worth “Star-Telegram” newspaper, author of the book “Fountains of Faith” (1970), and the writer of more than 100 articles and poems that were published in magazines including “Reader’s Digest,” “The Christian Home,” and “Sunshine.” He was an editor, teacher, motivational speaker, college administrator, and a pastor. He served on the board of directors for several nonprofit organizations. He is perhaps best remembered as one of America’s most quoted writers of inspirational maxims. William Arthur Ward passed on at 72 years of age on 30 March 1994.
Beauty Tips
For attractive lips,
speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes,
seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure,
share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair,
let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise,
walk with the knowledge you’ll never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored,
renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed;
never throw out anybody.
Remember,
If you ever need a helping hand,
you’ll find one at the end of your arm.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands,
one for helping yourself,
the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
the figure that she carries,
or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
because that is the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
the passion that she shows,
and the beauty of a woman with passing years - only grows!
By Sam Levenson: “In One Era & Out the Other” (1 January 1973)
Samuel ‘Sam’ Levenson was born on 28 December 1911 in Manhattan, New York, United States of America. He became a humorist, a writer, a schoolteacher, a television game show panelist and host, and a journalist. Samuel ‘Sam’ Levenson passed on at 68 years of age on 27 August 1980 in Brooklyn, New York, United States of America.
“This poem was one of Audrey Hepburn’s favorite poems to quote, and has been erroneously attributed to her. It was actually written by Sam Levenson, and read by Audrey Hepburn on Christmas Eve 1992, and also on occasion when she was asked for beauty tips.” -Barry Paris: “Audrey Hepburn” (1996); type of work: biography
For attractive lips,
speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes,
seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure,
share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair,
let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise,
walk with the knowledge you’ll never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored,
renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed;
never throw out anybody.
Remember,
If you ever need a helping hand,
you’ll find one at the end of your arm.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands,
one for helping yourself,
the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
the figure that she carries,
or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
because that is the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
the passion that she shows,
and the beauty of a woman with passing years - only grows!
By Sam Levenson: “In One Era & Out the Other” (1 January 1973)
Samuel ‘Sam’ Levenson was born on 28 December 1911 in Manhattan, New York, United States of America. He became a humorist, a writer, a schoolteacher, a television game show panelist and host, and a journalist. Samuel ‘Sam’ Levenson passed on at 68 years of age on 27 August 1980 in Brooklyn, New York, United States of America.
“This poem was one of Audrey Hepburn’s favorite poems to quote, and has been erroneously attributed to her. It was actually written by Sam Levenson, and read by Audrey Hepburn on Christmas Eve 1992, and also on occasion when she was asked for beauty tips.” -Barry Paris: “Audrey Hepburn” (1996); type of work: biography
The Man Who Frets At Worldly Strife
The man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
Give us the lad whose happy life
Is one perpetual grin:
He, Midas*-like, turns all to gold -
He smiles when others sigh,
Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
And laughs though wet or dry.
There’s fun in everything we meet, -
The greatest, worst, and best;
Existence is a merry treat,
And every speech a jest:
So, come what may, the man’s in luck
Who turns it all to glee,
And laughing, cries, with honest Puck+,
“Good Lord! what fools ye be.”
By Joseph Rodman Drake
*Midas, commonly known as King Midas, is a character in Greek mythology who had the ‘golden touch’ or ‘Midas Touch,’ meaning that whatever he touched turned into the metal gold, but ultimately the ability was not to his benefit.
+Puck, in this instance ‘honest Puck,’ known also as Robin Goodfellow, is a character in William Shakespeare’s play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (1595 - 1596), and is based on the ancient character Puck from English mythology, being a clever, mischievous elf, sprite, or jester, and the very personification of the wise knave.
Joseph Rodman Drake was born on 17 August 1795 in New York City, New York, United States of America. He was married to Sarah Eckford on 21 October 1816. He became a physician and a poet. Joseph Rodman Drake passed on at 25 years of age on 21 September 1820 in Hunts Point, New York, United States of America.
The man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
Give us the lad whose happy life
Is one perpetual grin:
He, Midas*-like, turns all to gold -
He smiles when others sigh,
Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
And laughs though wet or dry.
There’s fun in everything we meet, -
The greatest, worst, and best;
Existence is a merry treat,
And every speech a jest:
So, come what may, the man’s in luck
Who turns it all to glee,
And laughing, cries, with honest Puck+,
“Good Lord! what fools ye be.”
By Joseph Rodman Drake
*Midas, commonly known as King Midas, is a character in Greek mythology who had the ‘golden touch’ or ‘Midas Touch,’ meaning that whatever he touched turned into the metal gold, but ultimately the ability was not to his benefit.
+Puck, in this instance ‘honest Puck,’ known also as Robin Goodfellow, is a character in William Shakespeare’s play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (1595 - 1596), and is based on the ancient character Puck from English mythology, being a clever, mischievous elf, sprite, or jester, and the very personification of the wise knave.
Joseph Rodman Drake was born on 17 August 1795 in New York City, New York, United States of America. He was married to Sarah Eckford on 21 October 1816. He became a physician and a poet. Joseph Rodman Drake passed on at 25 years of age on 21 September 1820 in Hunts Point, New York, United States of America.
The Most Of All Things
The most destructive habit . . . Worry.
The greatest joy . . . Giving.
The greatest loss . . . Loss of self-respect.
The most satisfying work . . . Helping others.
The ugliest personality trait . . . Selfishness.
The most endangered species . . . Dedicated leaders.
Our greatest natural resource . . . Our youth.
The greatest ‘shot in the arm’ . . . Encouragement.
The greatest problem to overcome . . . Fear.
The most effective sleeping pill . . . Peace of mind.
The most crippling failure disease . . . Excuses.
The most powerful force in life . . . Love.
The most dangerous pariah . . . A gossiper.
The world’s most incredible computer . . . The brain.
The worst thing to be without . . . Hope.
The deadliest weapon . . . The tongue.
The two most power-filled words . . . ‘I Can.’
The greatest asset . . . Faith.
The most worthless emotion . . . Self-pity.
The most beautiful attire . . . Smile!
The most prized possession . . . Integrity.
The most powerful channel of communication . . . Prayer.
The most contagious spirit . . . Enthusiasm.
The most available person for improving the world . . . You.
By Author Unknown
The most destructive habit . . . Worry.
The greatest joy . . . Giving.
The greatest loss . . . Loss of self-respect.
The most satisfying work . . . Helping others.
The ugliest personality trait . . . Selfishness.
The most endangered species . . . Dedicated leaders.
Our greatest natural resource . . . Our youth.
The greatest ‘shot in the arm’ . . . Encouragement.
The greatest problem to overcome . . . Fear.
The most effective sleeping pill . . . Peace of mind.
The most crippling failure disease . . . Excuses.
The most powerful force in life . . . Love.
The most dangerous pariah . . . A gossiper.
The world’s most incredible computer . . . The brain.
The worst thing to be without . . . Hope.
The deadliest weapon . . . The tongue.
The two most power-filled words . . . ‘I Can.’
The greatest asset . . . Faith.
The most worthless emotion . . . Self-pity.
The most beautiful attire . . . Smile!
The most prized possession . . . Integrity.
The most powerful channel of communication . . . Prayer.
The most contagious spirit . . . Enthusiasm.
The most available person for improving the world . . . You.
By Author Unknown
The Junk Box
My father often used to say:
“My boy don’t throw a thing away:
You’ll find a use for it some day.”
So in a box he stored up things,
Bent nails, old washers, pipes and rings,
And bolts and nuts and rusty springs.
Despite each blemish and each flaw,
Some use for everything he saw;
With things material, this was law.
And often when he’d work to do,
He searched the junk box through and through
And found old stuff as good as new.
And I have often thought since then,
That father did the same with men;
He knew he’d need their help again.
It seems to me he understood
That men, as well as iron and wood,
May broken be and still be good.
Despite the vices he’d display
He never threw a man away,
But kept him for another day.
A human junk box is this earth
And into it we’re tossed at birth,
To wait the day we’ll be of worth.
Though bent and twisted, weak of will,
And full of flaws and lacking skill,
Some service each can render still.
By Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
My father often used to say:
“My boy don’t throw a thing away:
You’ll find a use for it some day.”
So in a box he stored up things,
Bent nails, old washers, pipes and rings,
And bolts and nuts and rusty springs.
Despite each blemish and each flaw,
Some use for everything he saw;
With things material, this was law.
And often when he’d work to do,
He searched the junk box through and through
And found old stuff as good as new.
And I have often thought since then,
That father did the same with men;
He knew he’d need their help again.
It seems to me he understood
That men, as well as iron and wood,
May broken be and still be good.
Despite the vices he’d display
He never threw a man away,
But kept him for another day.
A human junk box is this earth
And into it we’re tossed at birth,
To wait the day we’ll be of worth.
Though bent and twisted, weak of will,
And full of flaws and lacking skill,
Some service each can render still.
By Edgar A. Guest
Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest was born on 20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England. He immigrated with his family to the United States of America in 1891. From his first published work in the “Detroit Free Press” until his passing in 1959, he penned some 11,000 poems that were syndicated in 300 newspapers and collected into more than twenty books. Mr. Guest is reputed to have had a new poem published in a newspaper every day for more than thirty years. He became known as ‘The People’s Poet,’ writing poems that were of a sentimental and optimistic nature. Edgar Albert ‘Eddie’ Guest passed on at 77 years of age on 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America.
What Matters
What matters is not what we bought, but what we built; not what we got, but what we gave.
What matters is not our success, but our significance.
What matters is not what we learnt but what we taught.
What matters is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate our example.
What matters is not our competence, but our character.
What matters is not how many people we knew, but how many people will feel a lasting loss when we are gone.
What matters is not our memories, but the memories that live in those who loved us.
What matters is how long we will be remembered, by whom and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance, but a matter of choice.
By Author Unknown
What matters is not what we bought, but what we built; not what we got, but what we gave.
What matters is not our success, but our significance.
What matters is not what we learnt but what we taught.
What matters is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate our example.
What matters is not our competence, but our character.
What matters is not how many people we knew, but how many people will feel a lasting loss when we are gone.
What matters is not our memories, but the memories that live in those who loved us.
What matters is how long we will be remembered, by whom and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance, but a matter of choice.
By Author Unknown
My Recipe
I have a recipe for life,
The best one that I know;
I guarantee the end results . . .
’Twas taught me long ago.
You start by mixing just a dash
Of humor of the day,
And then you add a cheery smile
As you go on your way.
Love’s never out of season
So you can add a large amount,
And I never measure sympathy,
You don’t with things that count.
Toss in a bit of effort
And a lot of nerve and grit,
And hope makes all the difference,
For a thing improves with it.
You stir a bit of kindness in,
Along with patience, too,
And flavor it with gentleness,
Whatever you may do.
And when the sun is setting,
You’ll look back in joy to see,
A worthwhile product of your toil
Within my recipe.
By Grace E. Easley
Grace E. Easley was born on 24 January 1928 in McComb, Mississippi, United States of America, as a daughter of Earl Bickham Easley and Lottie Allred Easley. She retired from the Southwest Mississippi Regional Medical Center in McComb, where she had been the front desk greeter for many years. She was also a member of the Saint Alphonsus and Saint Teresa Catholic churches. Mrs. Easley was a widely published poet, having had many of her uplifting inspirational poems published in the Silesians series of books, as well as in church bulletins and other publications. Grace E. Easley passed on at 83 years of age on 18 April 2011 in McComb, Mississippi, United States of America.
I have a recipe for life,
The best one that I know;
I guarantee the end results . . .
’Twas taught me long ago.
You start by mixing just a dash
Of humor of the day,
And then you add a cheery smile
As you go on your way.
Love’s never out of season
So you can add a large amount,
And I never measure sympathy,
You don’t with things that count.
Toss in a bit of effort
And a lot of nerve and grit,
And hope makes all the difference,
For a thing improves with it.
You stir a bit of kindness in,
Along with patience, too,
And flavor it with gentleness,
Whatever you may do.
And when the sun is setting,
You’ll look back in joy to see,
A worthwhile product of your toil
Within my recipe.
By Grace E. Easley
Grace E. Easley was born on 24 January 1928 in McComb, Mississippi, United States of America, as a daughter of Earl Bickham Easley and Lottie Allred Easley. She retired from the Southwest Mississippi Regional Medical Center in McComb, where she had been the front desk greeter for many years. She was also a member of the Saint Alphonsus and Saint Teresa Catholic churches. Mrs. Easley was a widely published poet, having had many of her uplifting inspirational poems published in the Silesians series of books, as well as in church bulletins and other publications. Grace E. Easley passed on at 83 years of age on 18 April 2011 in McComb, Mississippi, United States of America.
