I lift up my heart in gratitude for these beautiful yearly bridges that bind us together in love.
Your mouth smells like my jock strap.
I never ever ran from the Ku Klux Klan, and I shouldn't have to run from a black man.
The lack of facts holds you back. The odds are stacked against a weak mind.
Any man without a woman is incomplete, and vice-versa she's obsolete.
I stayed away from drugs, I never smoked a pipe. When I wanna get high, I smoke the mic. I never did white lines, I only write lines, and I ain't sniffin' nothing but the vapors from hype rhymes.
The five senses are all correlated, the sixth and seventh is how you elevate it.
The war has jerked us pretty sharply into consciousness about this slug-a-bed sin of Sloth, and perhaps we need not say too much about it. But two warnings are rather necessary.
Self-reflection is the gateway to freedom. It also brings greater appreciation and enjoyment. We begin to enjoy spending time with our own mind, and we enjoy reflecting on our experience of the teachings. Like the sun emerging from behind the clouds, the teachings of the dharma become clear.
Take the gesture, the action of writing. I have an almost obsessive relation to writing instruments. I often switch from one pen to another just for the pleasure of it. I try out new ones. I have far too many pens - I don't know what to do with all of them! And yet, as soon as I see a new one, I start craving it. I cannot keep myself from buying them.
I want to be one of the best ever. It's important to me. Why can't I be? Who's faster than me? Not many. Who has the size and can move like me? Not many. Catch passes like me? Not many.