Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
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Anand Thakur
Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
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Rest, brother, rest. Have you done ill or well Rest, rest, There is no God, no gods who dwell Crowned with avenging righteousness on high Nor frowning ministers of their hate in hell.
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If God can do anything he can make a stone so heavy that even he can’t lift it. Then there is something God cannot do, he cannot lift the stone. Therefore God does not exist.
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In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
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It is pleasant, when the sea runs high, to view from land the great distress of another.
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Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another’s struggles.
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Human life lay foul before men’s eyes, crushed to the dust beneath religion’s weight.
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I own with reason: for, if men but knew Some fixed end to ills, they would be strong By some device unconquered to withstand Religions and the menacings of seers.
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The body searches for that which has injured the mind with love.
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It is pleasant, when the sea is high and the winds are dashing the waves about, to watch from the shores the struggles of another.
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For there is a VOID in things; a truth which it will be useful for you, in reference to many points, to know; and which will prevent you from wandering in doubt.
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By protracting life, we do not deduct one jot from the duration of death.
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Such crimes has superstition caused.
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The mask is torn off, while the reality remains
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No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings – the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.
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Meantime, when once we know from nothing still Nothing can be create, we shall divine More clearly what we seek: those elements From which alone all things created are, And how accomplished by no tool of Gods.
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