Posts Tagged ‘randy hasper’

The hunt drives the world.

The treasure in you is greater than the treasure that is in the world.

Pan gold — start inside.

Neighbors are treasure; love is the map.

Seek and you will reap.

Thoughts are loot, concepts a hoot.

All thieves maintain laws against stealing — from themselves.

Treasure is trauma.

Become a pirate; board your own ship; demand booty.

Free climb light; pack insight.

Plunder all awarenesses with all kindness.

Drink deeply from every well they throw you into.

Rough times make tough lines.

Be tough, defer, shut up.

Tough needs no rough.

The tough free climb to beauty and remain after the glory has faded.

Resilient is emotionally brilliant.

Humble compliments tough.

Gruff is protection; rough is defection.

Spit, don’t quit.

Tough is not enough.

Hunt and pick what you wear; go about with verve and flair.

When in doubt — wear something.

Vanity prevents nudity.

Dress in $10’s; think in $100’s.

You will never have enough of what you don’t really want.

Très chic — soul’s boutique.

Envy’s passion is in fashion.

The under-arrayed hate the over-displayed.

Be smartin in Tartan.

Shop to shop hang out dead-drop.

Details make the man; minutia makes the woman.

Fashion fast, compassion dashed.

Excuses are ruses.

Completely excuse your neighbor; occasionally pardon yourself.

“They did the best they could” is highly useful to those with a firm commitment to complete denial.

Regret nothing; what has happened has made you the way you aren’t.

Live with your regretatives; die with your appreciatives.

It is said that there is a purpose behind everything; it sucks when that purpose is selfishness.

Tough is facing reality; hardcore is taking responsibility for it.

Excusal is refusal.

Hug-pat every choice; smack-kiss every inner voice.

Own what’s blown; hone what’s completely thrown.

We excuse in ourselves the very same fault we condemn in our neighbor.

Time sprints; pain runs after it.

Think you’re done; you’re just at one.

They may break off your arms, but they can’t take your wings.

A limp need not stop a walk.

Humor heals horror.

Broken begets open.

Past shock survives beauty.

Good times wake you, bad times take you, choices make you.

Hobble me, I’ll step over you; lame me, I’ll jump you.

A limp need not stop a walk.

Some of the most beautiful things in the world are some the most damaged things in the world.

Cancer is the club you don’t want to join; it contains the people you do want to meet.

Some things are best dealt with by looking away.

Distraction is pure love; redirection is total adoration.

Treat all anxiety using all distraction.

You may easily distract crying children, but you’ll need to hug, pat and hold sobbing adults.

Interrupt crying; do it by laughing.

Denial is a remedy; distraction is a curative.

Look away from what you can’t like to what you can love.

To stay sane reframe all fame as a non-gain.

Control your destiny; sleep late, lunch long, avoid strenuous movement.

Time is subservient to doodling; the calendar is subject to lolly gagging and fiddling.

At sea, behold; in port, be bold.

Responsible is gutsy; wanabe is clutsy.

Grow bold; make the next move.

Bold pauses then charges.

Closed is cold, authentic sassy bold.

Faux bold will fold.

Eat wealth, drink power; metabolize an iron-fisted meekness.

Bold gets old, but a quiet, steady ambling — it’s electrifying!

Bold isn’t rushing into action, it is inspiring someone else to do so.

Crave, engage; rave, be brave.

Dauntless will be wantless.

End starvation, abolish war, stop racism, abandon sexism — then go home and take out the trash.

Some streets are safer than some homes.

To live nowhere is to live everywhere.

A street is a palace; a road is a mansion; a field is a home.

Home sweet tome.

A shopping cart is a moving van to a homeless man.

First we lose our minds, then we lose our homes.

Roofs heal illness; families heal hurt.

A home isn’t a house; it’s a mindset.

There’s no place like bed.

The first appearance of homelessness is in the geological record.

To sap off others, to answer to no one, to look out only for oneself is selfishness; it can masquerade as homelessness.

The solution to homelessness isn’t blame; it’s homes.

To transform deform the norm.

There are few transformations, a million highs and lows.

Difficulty is transformational; acceptance makes it doubly so.

We transform one chip, crack and collapse at a time.

Rules decline; choices refine.

We change one choice at a chance.

Transformations need donations.

Approve variances; fund mid-course corrections, die for transformations.

To transform another transform yourself.

Mourn, then transform.

To age well die young.

Age gracefully; stay home mostly.

Age publicly; ache silently.

Don’t get old; get venerable.

Aging is not for sissies; it’s for bellyachers, complainers, grumblers and moaners.

Aging compulsory; engaging elective.

Old isn’t cute; it can be a hoot.

A small village can raise a child, but it takes a major city to care for a senior.

Senility is the crisis, midlife just a virus.

The greatest wealth — it’s mental health.

Everyone is crazy to someone.

Stay in the game; feign sane.

Sanity is chemistry — mixed with artistry.

Fame is insane.

Whacked is subjective; sane is deflective.

Insanity always has a long history.

We are about as sane as we choose to be — if you rule out the effects of disease, aging, enemies and parents.

Insanity increase with loneliness; it doubles with rejection.

Contingent causes behingement.

There is no shame in a worn out brain.

Geology, theology — neither needs apology.

Time is deep, and space is steep.

From fossils come cities.

Geologically, is, isn’t.

The past moves.

Our origins meet below our feet.

It’s twice, it’s thrice we came from ice.

Time, time, time — the DNA of human kind.

The universe is a library, the earth a novel, humans a short story.

In the strata of the earth we find the fingerprint of God.

We live and move and have our being within the lovely Pleistocene.

Gorgeous — it’s torturous.

Taste lays waste to grace.

Gorgeous carries no guarantees.

Gorgeous, the finest design, and a kind and gentle mind.

Sublime and kitsch; it’s the same ditch.

What is at first interesting is at at last gorgeous.

Justice — it’s gorgeous.

Gorgeously hideous is the sacred perfidious.

Virtuosity is the house servant of gorgeosity.

The modern world bellows down aesthetic’s quiet hall.

Disgusting — it’s gut-busting.

Gauche is funny, louche is money.

A good gag, gags.

Benign crime — just kills us.

A short distance murders a long propriety.

Louche gains nothing from abstruse.

Familiarity breeds offense.

Be in poor taste and you’ll be chased.

Life is hilariously gross, rollickingly morose.

Oafish, thuggish, rudish, brutish.

We torture and sigh and adhere to a lie.

Self-torture yields a false confession.

What tortures one delights another.

Fame tortures the soul, but obscurity completely rips the heart out.

Weak tortures; strong nurtures.

Rapport trumps torture.

The tortured lie; the befriended amplify.

Pain is our torturer; it is also our trustworthy reporter.

Unrequited love is the highest form of self-torture.

We torture our loves to test their tenacities.

The tortuosity of life; the blissification of death.

Paucity — it’s a monstrosity.

Not enough is rough.

Scarcity is the reality that becomes a verity.

Gratefulness banishes scarcity.

Immorality is simply surfeiting on the same planet as the starving.

Paucity follows every atrocity.

There is no shame in not enough; there is in too much.

We dabble in the grandiose when we fail at the grand.

Paucity — it’s not virtuosity.

Little acts big.

Lack is crack.

Foreign ideas exist within the familiar recesses of every sentient mind.

I am the human race; nothing is foreign to me.

I see in me both thee and we.

To the curious, nothing remains foreign.

Foreign is not a choice; its a place.

Geography divides; biology unites.

Foreign confuses familiar uses.

Foreign is simply what I haven’t yet experienced.

Foreign is born — then worn.

Foreign is now domestic, and domestic foreign.

Equality is the best policy.

People are policy.

The policy is in the details.

Every policy prophesizes its own violation.

The deepest intentions of our hearts surface in the shallow waters of our public polices.

Foreign policy is domestic polity.

Policy — it saves us from entropy.

Policy’s pathology originates in the eye and spreads to the mouth.

One person’s policy is another person’s cobwebbery.

A very selective honesty combined with an artful subtly is a
the best policy.

Theology has no policy but love.

Extreme gets mean.

Solutions lurk toward the middle.

Extreme is a scene.

In extremity exists our enmity.

Extreme politics pack the ear and poke the eye.

Our extremes limit our means.

Extreme problems require moderate solutions.

Limit your extremes to your supreme dreams.

The way out of extreme circumstances is quickly.

The most — it’s a temporary boast.

We apologize for the lesser to avoid the greater.

Every contrition includes an omission.

An qualified apology thrives on amphibology.

Every ”sorry” holds an inquiry.

Apology — it’s a branch of immunology.

Apologize — or metastasize.

At the heart of every sincere apology is love.

A superfluous apology is empathy’s choreography.

Apologize as needed for what you’ve done, never for who you are.

Modern  forgiviology rests upon apology.