Little Things

By Chivalries as tiny,
A Blossom, or a Book,
The seeds of smiles are planted -
Which blossom in the dark.



Emily Dickinson

Sunset

The guest is gold and crimson -
An Opal guest and gray -
Of ermine is his doublet -
His Capuchin gay -

He reaches town at nightfall -
He stops at every door -
Who looks for him at morning -
I pray him too - explore
The Lark's pure territory -
Or the Lapwing's shore!



Emily Dickinson

Fall

The morns are meeker than they were -
The nuts are getting brown -
The berry's cheek is plumper -
The Rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf -
The field a scarlet gown -
Lest I sh'd be old fashioned
I'll put a trinket on.



Emily Dickinson

Havel - Good Moods 3

“Another kind of good mood can be brought about by what I would call a “human encounter.’  Now and again, I establish an understanding with someone.  He may understand me better, or I him, or he helps me somehow – perhaps no more than a kind word, or I help him – perhaps by dissuading him from a foolish act or by persuading him to exercise better self-control.  Perhaps I simply have a good talk with someone or, in a kind of cheerfully creative dialogue, we experience a small event together.  Such things are common enough on the outside, but they have a special value here and it is no surprise that they unfailingly produce a good mood.”

Vaclav Havel
Letters to Olga

Judgement

"Young Mr. Ladislaw was not at all deep in German writers; but very little achievement is required in order to pity another man's shortcomings."

George Eliot
Middlemarch

Everyday Miracles

As if I asked a common Alms,
And in my wondering hand
A Stranger pressed a Kingdom,
And I, bewildered, stand -
As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a Morn -
And it should lift its purple Dikes,
And Shatter Me with Dawn!

Emily Dickinson
The Poems of Emily Dickinson

Havel - Good Moods 2

"There are many books, television programs and films that, for a variety of reasons, catch my interest.  Infrequently, however, something not only catches my interest, but thrills me as well (interestingly enough, it needn't always be a work of art; a good essay may do the same); in short I have a supreme artistic experience.  When it happens, though, it's certainly worth it: suddenly I feel moved to tears, not emotionally, or not only that (I can be moved by the silliest things, as you can) - it's more like sudden happiness.  My tears are oddly mingled with laughter and they have a common source: a delight in the truth, in the supremacy and authenticity of communication; a sensation of great joy has nothing to do with whether the work is sad or gay.  Part of this, of course, is a physiological abreaction to constant stress and tension, yet at the same time, it is an experience purely 'in and of itself,' supremely spiritual and meaningful on its own terms.  Even the delight it brings is pure, that is, independent of any particular interest, purpose or circumstance.  The joy comes from total inner identification; one has been smiled upon, unexpectedly, by something from the mysterious essence of the 'order of the spirit' and the 'order of Being.'  More than that, one has actually been called upon to partake in a 'feast': in short one has shared in something crucially important, been totally involved in it.  Characteristically, this 'cultural' good mood can make many bothersome, exhausting, or at least preoccupying matters suddenly seem unimportant and trivial."

Vaclav Havel
Letters To Olga