Steve Jobs

An artist who happened to be a CEO. Great man!

When you’re young, you look at television and think, There’s a conspiracy. The networks have conspired to dumb us down. But when you get a little older, you realize that’s not true. The networks are in business to give people exactly what they want. That’s a far more depressing thought. Conspiracy is optimistic! You can shoot the bastards! We can have a revolution! But the networks are really in business to give people what they want. It’s the truth.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

It’s more fun to be a pirate than to join the navy.

Source

The Dilbert Principle - Idiocy

Everyone is an idiot, not just people with low SAT scores. The only difference among us is that we're idiots about different things at different times. No matter how smart you are, you spend much of your day being an idiot

I proudly include myself in the idiot category, Idiocy in the modern age isn't an all-encompassing, twenty-four-hour situation for most people. Its a condition that everybody slips into many times a day. Life is just too complicated to be smart all the time.

another one..

I blame sex and paper for most of our current problems. Here's my logic: Only one person in a million is smart enough to invent a printing press. So when society consisted of only a few hundred apelike people living in caves, the odds of one of them being a genius were fairly low. But people kept having sex, and with every moron added to the population, the odds of a deviant smart-pants slipping through the genetic net higher and higher. When you've got several million people running around having sex all willy-nilly, the odds are faily good that some pregnant ape-mom is going to squat in a field someday and pinch out a printing-press-making deviant

Who will come with me?

With wind and weather beating toward me
Up to the hill and moor land I go
Who will come with me? Who will climb with me?
Wade through the brook and tramp through the snows?

I am the lord of tempest and mountain
I am the spirit of freedom and pride
Stark must he be and a kibsman to danger
Who shares my kingdom and walks at my side

-- AUROBINDO

Some quotes - Jerome K Jerome

Love is like the measles; we all have to go through it. Also like the measles, we take it only once. One never need be afraid of catching it a second time. The man who has had it can go into the most dangerous places and play the most foolhardy tricks with perfect safety. He can picnic in shady woods, ramble through leafy aisles, and linger on mossy seats to watch the sunset. He fears a quiet country-house no more than he would his own club. He can join a family party to go down the Rhine. He can, to see the last of a friend, venture into the very jaws of the marriage ceremony itself. He can keep his head through the whirl of a ravishing waltz, and rest afterward in a dark conservatory, catching nothing more lasting than a cold. He can brave a moonlight walk adown sweet-scented lanes or a twilight pull among the somber rushes. He can get over a stile without danger, scramble through a tangled hedge without being caught, come down a slippery path without falling. He can look into sunny eyes and not be dazzled. He listens to the siren voices, yet sails on with unveered helm

-- On being in Love, Idle thoughts of an Idle Fellow


We are all inclined to adopt a similar standard of merit in our estimate of other people. A good man is a man who is good to us, and a bad man is a man who doesn’t do what we want him to. The truth is, we each of us have an inborn conviction that the whole world, with everybody and everything in it, was created as a sort of necessary appendage to ourselves. Our fellow men and women were made to admire us and to minister to our various requirements. You and I, dear reader, are each the center of the universe in our respective opinions. You, as I understand it, were brought into being by a considerate Providence in order that you might read and pay me for what I write; while I, in your opinion, am an article sent into the world to write something for you to read. The stars—­as we term the myriad other worlds that are rushing down beside us through the eternal silence—­were put into the heavens to make the sky look interesting for us at night; and the moon with its dark mysteries and ever-hidden face is an arrangement for us to flirt under.

-- On Vanity and Vanities, Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow

We wish to become rich men, not in order to enjoy ease and comfort—­all that any one man can taste of those may be purchased anywhere for 200 pounds per annum—­but that our houses may be bigger and more gaudily furnished than our neighbors’; that our horses and servants may be more numerous; that we may dress our wives and daughters in absurd but expensive clothes; and that we may give costly dinners of which we ourselves individually do not eat a shilling’s worth. And to do this we aid the world’s work with clear and busy brain, spreading commerce among its peoples, carrying civilization to its remotest corners.

--On Vanity and Vanities, Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow


Are we laboring at some Work too vast for us to perceive? Are our passions and desires mere whips and traces by the help of which we are driven? Any theory seems more hopeful than the thought that all our eager, fretful lives are but the turning of a useless prison crank. Looking back the little distance that our dim eyes can penetrate the past, what do we find? Civilizations, built up with infinite care, swept aside and lost. Beliefs for which men lived and died, proved to be mockeries. Greek Art crushed to the dust by Gothic bludgeons. Dreams of fraternity, drowned in blood by a Napoleon. What is left to us, but the hope that the work itself, not the result, is the real monument? Maybe, we are as children, asking, "Of what use are these lessons? What good will they ever be to us?" But there comes a day when the lad understands why he learnt grammar and geography, when even dates have a meaning for him. But this is not until he has left school, and gone out into the wider world. So, perhaps, when we are a little more grown up, we too may begin to understand the reason for our living

-- Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow

"I will not take up your time, dear boy, with telling you what is the matter with me. Life is brief, and you might pass away before I had finished. But I will tell you what is NOT the matter with me. I have not got housemaid's knee. Why I have not got housemaid's knee, I cannot tell you; but the fact remains that I have not got it. Everything else, however, I HAVE got."

-- Three Men In a Boat

Good Will Hunting

"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. You're an orphan right?"

On writing - Maugham

(But) To write was an instinct that seemed as natural to me as to breath, and I did not stop to consider if I wrote well or badly. It was not till some years later that it dawned upon me that it was a delicate art that must be painfully acquired. The discovery was forced upon me by the by the difficulty I found in getting my meaning down on paper.

-- The Summing Up

వ్రాయడం ఎందుకు?

"రచయిత ఎప్పుడూ ఒక ప్రశ్న వేసుకోవాలి. మనం వ్రాసేది ఎంతమందిని సముచ్చకితుల్ని చేస్తుంది ఎంతమందిని ఉత్తేజం చేస్తుంది, కదిలిస్తుంది, ఏ ఘనకార్యం సాగిస్తుంది? ఈ అంతర్గత బాధ కలగకుండా ఈ భావం స్ఫురించకుండా ఏదో రాస్తూ పోవడం ఎందుకు? చెప్పవలసిన అవసరం వచ్చినపుడే, ఏదో స్ఫురించినప్పుడే, ఏదో మెరిసినపుడే, ఏదో మనసులో ఒక జలపాతం ఘోషించినప్పుడే చెప్పు. అక్షర హార్యాలషరాలను రెచ్చగొట్టు అవి మిగతాపని చేస్తాయి. అంతే గాని ఎందుకో రాస్తే ఎల్లా? వ్రాయవచ్చు, పత్రికలు వేయవచ్చు. కానీ లోకానికి ఏమి ఉపకారం. న్యూస్ ప్రింట్ ఖర్చు తప్ప..."

  -శేషేంద్ర శర్మ


ఎంతమందిని ఉత్తేజం చేస్తుంది, ఏం సాధిస్తుంది అని ఆలోచిస్తే చెప్పదలచుకున్న విషయాన్ని సరిగ్గా చెప్పగలగటం కుదురుతుందా? మనసున విరిసే మెరుపులూ, ఘోషించే జలపాతాలు ఎవడేమనుకుంటాడో, ఎవడికి అర్థం అవుతుందో లేదో అని ఆగుతాయా?

సంకల్ప శక్తి - స్వామి బుద్ధానంద

ఒక మనిషిలో సంకల్పశక్తి నిర్మాణం కావాలంటే మొదట అతడు సమ్యక్ చింతనం (Right thinking) చేయాలి. దానితో సరియైన దారిని ఎంచుకోగలుగుతాడు. ఆ తర్వాత అతను ప్రగాఢ చింతనం (Deep thinking) చేయాలి. దీనితో అంతరాంతరాల్లోకి వెళ్ళిపోగలుగుతాడు. ఆ తర్వాత స్వేచ్ఛాచింతనం (Free thinking) చేస్తాడు. తనదైన సొంత గొంతుక విప్పే అవకాశం కలుగుతుంది. అప్పుడే అతని సృజనశక్తి వల్ల బ్రహ్మాండమైన వినూత్నావిష్కరణలు జరుగుతాయి. ఈ విషయం ఒక్క సాహిత్యానికే కాదు, అన్ని వినూత్నాంశాలకూ వర్తిస్తుంది.

-- స్వామి బుద్ధానంద.

ఇక్కడ సమ్యక్ చింతనం లోని సమ్యక్ ను ఎవరు నిర్ణయిస్తారు? ఎవరికి ఏది "సమ్యక్" ?

On Celebrities

I started reading Somerset Maugham's "The Summing Up" yesterday. This book was described as the Religio Medici of Maugham.

Some random bloke said that when people think, they do so in pictures. Looks like I am pictorially challenged.. ;) instead of pictures, I think in quotes. For every situation, my mind instinctively searches for a quote, and finds one.

"Drawing on my fine command of the English language, I said nothing." - Says Robert Benchly. I would go a step ahead and say - drawing on my fine command of all the languages that I know, I would rather keep quite and let others talk. :)

So when I find some nicely worded or thought provoking quote, I am compelled to write it down.  Okay, enogugh of  I-am-O-phobia.  Here goes a quote from 'The Summing Up', (found this on second page, I am sure Maugham has more in store)

"The prestige you acquire by being able to tell your friends that you know famous men proves only that you are yourself of small account. The celebrated develop a technique to deal wih the persons they come across. They show the world a mask, often an impressive one, but take care to conceal their real selves. They play the part that is expected from them, and with practice learn to play it very well, but you are stupid if you think that his public performance of theirs corresponds with the real man within."

On History

ఈ మధ్య కాలంలో చదవగానే చురుక్కుమనిపించి, మళ్ళీ మళ్ళీ గుర్తొచ్చి, ఆలోచించగా "ఎంత నిజం!" అనిపించిన వాక్యాలు -

It is the misfortune of humanity that its history is chiefly written by third-rate men. The first-rate man seldom has any impulse to record and philosophise; his impulse is to act; life, to him, is an adventure, not a syllogism or an autopsy. Thus the writing of history is left to college professors, moralists, theorists, dunder-heads. Few historians, great or small, have shown any capacity for the affairs they presume to describe and interpret. Gibbon was an inglorious failure as a member of Parliament. Thycydides made such a mess of his military (or, rather, naval) command that he was exiled from Athens for twenty years and finally assassinated. Flavius Josephus, serving as governor of Galilee, lost the whole province to the Romans, and had to flee for his life. Momssen, elected to the Prussian Landtag, flirted with the Socialists. How much better we would understand the habits and nature of man if there were more historians like Julius Caesar, or even like Niccolo Machiavelli! Remembering the sharp and devastating character of their rough notes, think what marvelous histories Bismarck, Washington and Frederick the Great might have written! Such men are privy to the facts; the usual historians have to depend on deductions, rumors, guesses. Again, such men know how to tell the truth, however unpleasant; they are wholly free of that puerile moral obsession which marks the professor.... But they so seldom tell it! Well, perhaps some of them have—and their penalty is that they are damned and forgotten.

HL Mencken వ్రాసిన Damn! అన్న పుస్తకం నుంచి.

చరిత్ర సృష్టించే వారు, చరిత్రలో నిలిచే పనులు చేసే వారు, ఆ అనుభవాలను చరిత్రగా రాయడానికి అర్హులూ అయిన వారికి, పోస్టుమార్టం రాతలు రాసే సమయమెక్కడ ఉంటుంది? నిజమే, మానవాళి చరిత్రను 3rd rate men రాయడం దౌర్భాగ్యమే.

así es la vida!!

Dog finding a rainbow

It is no more crazy than a dog finding a rainbow. Dogs are colourblind, Gretchen. They don't see colour. Just like we don't see time. We can feel it, we can feel it passing, but we can't see it. It's just like a blur. It's like we're riding in a supersonic train and the world is just blowing by, but imagine if we could stop that train, eh, Gretchen? Imagine if we could stop that train, get out, look around, and see time for what it really is? A universe, a world, a thing as unimaginable as colour to a dog, and as real, as tangible as that chair you're sitting in. Now if we could see it like that, really look at it, then maybe we could see the flaws as well as the form. And that's it; it's that simple. That's all I discovered. I'm just a... a guy who saw a crack in a chair that no one else could see. I'm that dog who saw a rainbow, only none of the other dogs believed me.

Kate and Leopold

Be Polite

And he put his arm around my shoulders and we went for a little walk and he said, Randy, it's such a shame that people perceive you as so arrogant. Because it's going to limit what you're going to be able to accomplish in life. What a hell of a way to word "you're being a jerk."

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/TenWays/Story?id=3681265&page=1

Even if you're not a lawyer (or especially if you're not a lawyer) the lesson here is pretty clear: it doesn't matter who's "right". What matters is that giving people the benefit of the doubt and treating them with respect is not only more fun, it works better too.

http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2005/03/you_can_always_.html