The drum beat, the life of the fete.
Want loud thoughts; play loud music!
Music is the miracle oracle.
We sing together what we have lived separately.
Jazz, jump, jitter and jive — jounce and jot and come alive.
“Getting down,” includes getting up.
Music is the soul of love.
Lift up something bigger than yourself — sing.
Life’s show is tempo prestissimo.
A melody is a moxy medicine.
Here’s the deal; we hurt to heal.
The sick spend up a gale — when snake oil is on sale.
Avoid extremes; too much water can kill you.
God built a zest into everyday of rest.
We measure old by pills — and bills.
The cure that ruins one life saves another.
The plants are medicines: we weren’t left to fight alone.
Medical billing is a like gambling; someone throws a random number on the table and another scrapes up the cash.
If the father at the birth is not feeling well, give him an epidural at the base of his skull.
A conversation with the surgeon should never be one-sided; we find that out when the wrong leg is beside us.
“You can bend over the table now” ever ensures open spaces in the clinic’s parking lot.
The hummingbird flies; the soul thrives.
A finch in water inspired the shower.
God gave us birds to teach us trust.
Flying dreams — our bird genes.
As the dove watches the sun set, so the heart trusts.
The hooded oriole inspired the black and yellow sports car.
Feed the avian songster within.
A foster child in a group home and a baby bird in a cardboard box — things at risk.
Like a Red Tailed hawk in a wire cage is a passionate writer without the next project.
Long, thin legs topped with black and white fashion — the black necked stilt inspired us to put new clothes on skinny runway models.
Is a killed bird is a thing preserved?
A pelican on a breeze and a person at peace with themselves — both fly far.
All good food should be honored with silence – for chewing.
God gave us food so we wouldn’t disbelieve in heaven.
Strong coffee; good talk.
A la mode is amour-propre.
Modern food science arrived at it’s addictive apogee with the invention of the french fry.
The high and holy liturgical tradition that drives the great church holidays is dinner.
Hunger divides; food unites.
An excess ruins what a dollop perfects.
Fried foods are the life of the party; they are also the death of the party goers.
Europe will do anything for good food; it traded smallpox for the tomato.
As the plague has dominated the world, so corn syrup rules the grocery store.
For the ancients to eat well it took a stick, a rock and a fire; moderns require a microwave, stove top, oven, cookware, flatware, utensils, garbage disposal, automatic dishwasher, TV, laptop, and a cooking show.
Gluttony is the deadly sin that kills the other six.
40,000 tons of space dust falls on the earth each year; what else aren’t we noticing?
Another night, another billion candles in the sky.
The Perseids; summer rain.
Someone placed the cosmic treats, within our eventual reach.
The universe began with a bang; it may cease with a “Dang!”
Looking in inspires; looking out sets us on fire.
The universe is orderly; approached it then, most cordially.
The space flight we take today, tomorow is our opus dei.
Too much looking down, the wonders of the sky all drown.
Mirrors, lenses and mounts see wonders, amazements and marvels.
The universe gently holds our life; someone measured it precise.
People — cat matresses.
Dogs fetch, cats watch.
Cats — a man’s best neglectful friend.
Chat noir; haute couture.
Free food, free housing, no chores and a litter box you don’t clean — we keep cats around to remind us of what the good life looks like.
Cat remind us that life is soft, warm and contains the possibility of a purr.
Cats are high-born — our royal fur-ness.
The wisest cat and the smartest mouse have abandoned the jungle to live in the house.
We love in cats what we love in ourselves — independence, superiority and somnolence.
The similarity between cats and humans is that both are born blind; the difference is that cats fairly quickly gain their sight.
Cats are animals of our kind; they love a floor, a food, a find.
We pet our cats to sooth ourselves.
A string, a paper shopping bag and a cat — affordable family entertainment.
Replace all fear with all love.
Militancy polarizes; fear ogrizes.
It is okay for us to disagree; it is not okay for us to harm.
Our sexual preferences may differ; our pursuit of understanding should not.
No one chooses to be rejected, and no one should be.
Our common identity transends our differing sexuality.
If you don’t know someone gay then what does that say?
When someone is different there is an opportunity to begin to understand.
To judge others is to judge ourselves.
What is missing from most discussions about sexuality is the acknowledgment of our pain over it.
No sexual orientation does away with the need for listening to each other.
Pride not only goes before a fall, it is a fall.
Pride is a fall, from a personal call.
Pride is always looking down; it misses what can be seen by looking up.
Thinking too much of self; it’s thinking too little of others.
Pride blinds, then binds.
Nationalism — mass pride.
Drop names; they will take cover.
The proud remain above, no love.
Pride ever offers its own resume.
You can always identify the newborn; she is the youngest person in the room in charge.
Kissing is self-sustaining; it leads to babies, which leads to more kissing.
The sweet top of a baby’s head is compensation for the other end.
With each new baby the world begins again; without the next baby, the world ends.
The eye lashes of a baby are proof of someone’s fine motor skills.
“Like a baby” is only good if we grow out of it.
Learning how to hold a baby is learning how to hold its head up; learning how to be a grownup is learning how to hold your own head up.
His father read him The Economist and his mother played him Bach before he was born. Thus began his education, not so much in economics or music, but in love.
The glory of the child is the parent, the glory of the parent is the child, the glory of the grandparent is the grandchild, and the glory of the grandchild is the grandparent; the glory of the family is the family.
You can be a sixty year old baby if your eighty year old mother is still alive.
When you fall off the wagon somebody else gets run over.
Addicts must get very low to get to very high.
“He can hold his liquor” is a leaky proposition.
One glass sharpens what the whole bottle dulls.
Bottoms up is bottoms down and out.
Addiction thrives on a pack of lies.
Addiction — the bottom is the beginning of the top.
We know we are addicted when we start and can’t stop.
Love overcomes addiction.
The difference between a medicine and an illegal drug is that one builds up what the other demolishes.
One person can savor a beer and be satisfied; another downs one bottle and is drunk for 35 years.
The wise get high on wives, children and grandchildren; fools get high on wine and lose them.
A drunk teen and a drunk fifty year old have something in common – a penchant for the pathetic.
Getting high alone is a euphoric low.
Sobriety for the addict is a non-stop brawl with the devil.
Friends are the best way to self-medicate without hangovers.
Drugs and alcohol — a false fix for the socially impaired.
We drink in excess because we are suffering a regress.
The best high is a straight shot of life.
What might make you the life of the party may in due time make you a dead-end street.
Drinking is a freedom best locked up when we are with those who can’t stop.
P. J. O’Rourke has quipped that “Drugs have taught an entire generation of Americans the metric system.” He failed to add that only a short time later they couldn’t remember it.
Consider the lillies of the field but put on clothes anyway; we thank you!
The cactus is a human plant — prickly with a rant and can’t.
Fine foxglove, cure from above.
The poppy catches attention, maintains retention — and then some.
Flowers are some hardy stuff, blooming in rock, both rough and tough.
Every flower praises in color.
To name, to see — roses, poppy.
Lilies aren’t the only Easter flower; every plant has resurrection power.
Every flower is an applause, for Carl, God and Mrs. Claus.
Waste time, waste you.
No smock or mock or mighty stock can lock the tock of the world’s clock.
Time was invented by infinity.
Time is a sports car; floor it with the breaks on.
Time is an illusion; lunch is real.
Modernity is time’s old uncertainty.
Toys are timed.
Live now, die then, calm win.
Remember yesterday; die tomorrow; thrive now.
To worry about the future wage war on the present.
Within now exists “I will.”
No present; no past.
The best aphrodisiac is loyalty!
The moral scold at night is cold.
Sex sells, but if you’re married it’s free — sort of.
Sex wasn’t God’s idea; it was God’s inspired break from ideas.
Sex isn’t to be bragged about; it’s to be thankful for.
To thank God for inventing sex we might be moral.
Lust is the loneliest sin.
Sex best second, rings first.
Science wants to understand — and be paid.
Science is a competition staged for male egotism.
Iron may sharpen iron, but peer reviews hold science’s nose to truth’s grindstone.
Stabilists become mobilists after the earth moves out from under them.
Science is the history of corrected corrections.
Bacteria, plants, insects, fruits, herbivores and carnivores — the earth is expert at recovery.
The real business of the earth is carried out below, so the psyche rides on the hot lava of emotion.
The most precise scientific inch is yet the master chef’s rough pinch.
Science without ethics is like a war without uniforms; bystanders are going to get blown away.
A flea can jump 130 times its height, but a human can think of itself 130 times better than it is.
Anchors love harbors, science new waters.
Best, less.
Don’t speak a lot; go for the perfect bon mot.
What isn’t said lives in the head.
Verbal covers smoother others.
Deep currents run counter to the flow; we say one thing, the other direction go.
A knifing can’t be taken back; a verbal lashing leaves a track.
Compliment more; criticisms are winning.
Our experiences craft speeches we rarely give.
With every word sashay; the fun resides in what you say.
”Hi,” is inadequate; try “My-oh-my!”
Silence is a rich loam in which to grow a wise tome.
A cliche a day keeps reason away.
The young must learn to speak up, the old to shut up.
Generalizations gather; specifics tether.
Let there be conversation, continue creation.
Every wise word has a wise opposite.
Words stop tanks; tanks can’t stop words.
“I saw it with my own eyes,” is the beginning of a confusing explanation.
Put the art before the course.
Art’s commotion is emotion.
Minds reel; arts heal.
Art heals the blind and blinds the time.
The universal hides on the particular’s bright side.
Memory — the art preservative of the arts.
Art is the find we make within the rind.
A rhyme at the wrong time — art crime.
Life — an art circle tour.
Art enlightens, while it confuses.
Art begins in the heart; it is completed in the mind.
Shadows: nature’s art gallery.
Modern Thought Proverbs, Aphorisms and Epigrams 