David Utrobin
https://www.goodreads.com/davidutro
“A heckler once interrupted Nikita Khrushchev in the middle of a speech in which he was denouncing the crimes of Stalin. “You were a colleague of Stalin’s,” the heckler yelled, “why didn’t you stop him then?” Khrushschev apparently could not see the heckler and barked out, “Who said that?” No hand went up. No one moved a muscle. After a few seconds of tense silence, Khrushchev finally said in a quiet voice, “Now you know why I didn’t stop him.” Instead of just arguing that anyone facing Stalin was afraid, knowing that the slightest sign of rebellion would mean certain death, he had made them feel what it was like to face Stalin—had made them feel the paranoia, the fear of speaking up, the terror of confronting the leader, in this case Khrushchev. The demonstration was visceral and no more argument was necessary.”
― The 48 Laws of Power
― The 48 Laws of Power
“Friendship is a deep oneness that develops when two people, speaking the truth in love to one another, journey together to the same horizon.”
― The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God
― The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God
“Just above our terror, the stars painted this story
in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often
abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.”
― I Made My Boy Out of Poetry
in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often
abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.”
― I Made My Boy Out of Poetry
“We weep for gladness, weep for grief;
The tears they are the same;
We sigh for longing, and relief;
The sighs have but one name,
And mingled in the dying strife,
Are moans that are not sad
The pangs of death are throbs of life,
Its sighs are sometimes glad.”
― Phantastes
The tears they are the same;
We sigh for longing, and relief;
The sighs have but one name,
And mingled in the dying strife,
Are moans that are not sad
The pangs of death are throbs of life,
Its sighs are sometimes glad.”
― Phantastes
“A tear rolled down my cheek
And more came down
Until tears rolled down like a stream.
My eyes were blind with tears for you.
They washed my eyes till I could see.”
― Anthology of Poetry and Verse Written by Students in Creative Writing Classes and Clubs During the First Three Years of Operation (1962-1965) of the Institute of American Indian Arts, Santa Fe, New Mexico
And more came down
Until tears rolled down like a stream.
My eyes were blind with tears for you.
They washed my eyes till I could see.”
― Anthology of Poetry and Verse Written by Students in Creative Writing Classes and Clubs During the First Three Years of Operation (1962-1965) of the Institute of American Indian Arts, Santa Fe, New Mexico
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