rock

Gray.The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.Gray...

We are Darwin__ confetti. Some of us fall on bare rock. No matter how good you are, you can fail spectacularly. Just because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or just because of some fatal flaw. Nothing to do with talent.

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, __ will never leave you nor forsake you._ So we can confidently say, __he Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?_ (Hebrews 13:5_6)

Most of all, we remain focused on our Rock that never moves.

Do it again and again. Consistency makes the rain drops to create holes in the rock. Whatever is difficult can be done easily with regular attendance, attention and action.

You must stay focused, concentrating on the work at hand. Consistency makes the rain drops to create holes in the rock.

The Truth burns the heart like a hammer breaking a rock.

What is left when there is no love? A rope and rock.

On Jesus' rock, my life abounds; all other floors are slippery grounds. His love for me, is mercy band; any other love is sinking sand.

Trusting the resolve in my heart is but a stepping stone to the future I now see clearly.

A wise person is like a smoothly polished rock: it takes time to become either.

What you read between the covers of your Bible is wisdom for a lifetime, rock-solid, forever truth__ruth you can stand on, live by, and trust_forever.

Left alone, I am overtaken by the northern void-no wind, no cloud, no track, no bird, only the crystal crescents between peaks, the ringing monuments of rock that, freed from the talons of ice and snow, thrust an implacable being into the blue. In the early light, the rock shadows on the snow are sharp; in the tension between light and dark is the power of the universe. This stillness to which all returns, this is reality, and soul and sanity have no more meaning than a gust of snow; such transience and insignificance are exalting, terrifying, all at once_Snow mountains, more than sea or sky, serve as a mirror to one__ own true being, utterly still, utterly clear, a void, an Emptiness without life or sound that carries in Itself all life, all sound.

One time Marian showed me some sand. When she gave it to me, she said, "These are very interesting stones." It just looked like sand, but she asked me to took through a magnifying glass. Then those small stones were as interesting as the stones I have in my office. The stones in my office are bigger, but under the glass the sand was quite similar.If you say, "This is a rock from the moon", you will be very much interested in it. Actually I don't think there is a great difference between rocks we have on the earth and those on the moon. Even if you go to Mars, I think you will find the same rocks.I am quite sure about it.So if you want to find something interesting, instead of hopping around the universe like this, enjoy your life in every moment, observe what you have now, and truly live in your surroundings.

A writer is like a stick of rock - the words go right through.

God is the ROCK of all ages.

Like almost all of Beefheart's recorded work, [Trout Mask Replica] was not even "ahead" of its time in 1969. Then and now, it stands outside time, trends, fads, hypes, the rise and fall of whole genres eclectic as walking Christmas trees, constituting a genre unto itself: truly, a musical Monolith if ever there was one.

Like almost all of Beefheart's recorded work, it was not even "ahead" of its time in 1969. Then and now, it stands outside time, trends, fads, hypes, the rise and fall of whole genres eclectic as walking Christmas trees, constituting a genre unto itself: truly, a musical Monolith if ever there was one.