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There is a mortal breed most full of futility. In contempt of what is at hand, they strain into the future, hunting impossibilities on the wings of ineffectual hopes.

Pindar

The forehead of every work must shine from afar.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Learn what you are and be such.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
To bear lightly the neck’s yoke brings strength; but kicking against the goads is the way of failure.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
To our own sorrows serious heed we give, But for another?s we soon cease to grieve.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
It is God that accomplishes all term to hopes, God, who overtakes the flying eagle, outpasses the dolphin in the sea; who bends under his strength the man with thoughts too high.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Envy, the attendant of the empty mind.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Creatures of a day, what is any one? What is he not? Man is but a dream of a shadow. Yet when there comes as a gift of heaven a gleam of sunshine, there rest upon men a radiant light and, aye, a gentle life.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Convention is the ruler of all.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Not every truth is the better for showing its face undisguised; and often silence is the wisest thing for a man to heed.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Man’s pleasure is a short time growing And it falls to the ground As quickly.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
With our mortal minds we should seek from the gods that which becomes us.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Many a time the thing left silent makes for happiness.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Point thy tongue on the anvil of truth.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
I will be small in small things, great among great.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Though God alone never tastes woe, Yet that man is happy, and poets sing of him, Who conquers with hand or swift foot And wins the greatest of prizes By steadfastness and strength.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur
Humble in a humble state and great in greatness, I will work out the divinity that is busy within my mind.
PINDAR

Anand Thakur

There is a mortal breed most full of futility. In contempt of what is at hand, they strain into the future, hunting impossibilities on the wings of ineffectual hopes.

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There is a mortal breed most full of futility. In contempt of what is at hand, they strain into the future, hunting impossibilities on the wings of ineffectual hopes.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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