These thought proverbs, anti-proverbs and axiomatic truths were created by Randy Hasper.
A good proverb is like a good foot-bridge troll, short-statured, sturdy and armed with a vicious bite.
Needy makes greedy.
Indigent; indignant.
Need is a seed.
Need shrinks the world.
Need pays attention to need.
Need engenders solutions, and births destructions.
The devastated must titrate their way to a new identity
Beggared — embittered or embiggered.
Impecunious gets the dubious salubrious.
Think high, not why.
When life goes small, stay big.
Some answers we don’t want; we get them anyway.
When why is nigh, fly.
You may ask why, but work on next.
What is; why was.
Irrationality is fog; “Why” rushes to and fro within it.
Why, what and how invented the experiment.
“Why?” we cry; unanswered we die.
The proof is lost in the pudding.
Fake news is booze; read it and weave.
No need to cry fake if no ones awake.
Trust is truth until there’s a tryst.
Post truth; post peace.
We read what we believe; we hear what we want; we see what we agree with.
Misinformation — predation.
Fake news puts in the screws.
Fake news is cult cool aide.
Taste transforms tidings.
Fake to fake; jape to jape.
Leaks become lore.
Gobble hobble; waste taste.
Taste is mace; appetite is a mugger.
No accounting for tastelessness.
Taste is learned, unfamiliar spurned.
Taste is a blast; it comes from the past.
Pleasant places, pleasant tastes.
Sweet, the treat; sugar, the hooker.
The great enemy of coffee — bad coffee.
What we eat we wear.
Wisdom lies in the taste of ones own reticence.
To calm is to cope
To cope don’t mope.
To cope, hope.
Panic comes in waves; coping surfs to a sandy shore.
Coping keeps going.
A home’s is a refuge; a bed is a sanctuary.
Over-process; over-suffer.
The good life requires grit — and gratitude.
The mind and heart must both collude to have a shot at quietude.
Positive — it’s appreciative.
Positive — it’s a cognitive additive.
Negative has a loud voice; positive is a quiet choice.
Go all out; be deficiently negative.
Positive may tap into a dark muse — dismissive.
Count your blessings; curses are all just guessing.
Sanguine channels oblivious.
Affirmative is curative.
Generosity is dope; charity is dopamine.
Those who love assure; those who care calm.
We choose a path; rationality lurks in the bushes watching.
Irrationality blissfully runs over factuality.
It’s irrational to think we are rational.
The popularity and uses of irrationality parallel that of vanilla ice cream.
Data can’t stop dumb.
The world’s collective irrationality is on full, paranoiac parade at the stock market.
“It won’t happen to me” is the epitome of irrationality.
War is the apex of irrationality; its perpetuation is the nadir.
Experiment: Place preference on one side of a balance scale and reason on the other and watch reason fly off into outer space.
Relational needs no rational.
We are capable of choosing to not be capable.
The human race feasts on fallacies and sates itself on irrationalities.
Rationality — steer it from the helm of emotionality.
The most addictive sedative is simply the repetitive.
Adore the firefly; honor the sunshine; revere the starlight; cherish the galaxies.
You never need new jokes; you just need a new crowd.
Mnemosyne is the mother of the nine Muses — and Repetition.
Wisdom lies in knowing what not to repeat.
Health lies in repetition: illness lies there too.
The ability not to repeat oneself lies within the expanding circle of learning.
Return to the intrinsic that lies within the authentic.
Pain stutters, as does pleasure.
To innovate stop.
War has a stutter; the stars all shutter.
Everything speaks; not everything listens.
Everything has a language; for most of these we still need a Rosetta Stone.
The trees have been speaking; we have not been listening.
Nothing spoken has been forgotten.
Our soul is always trying to tell us what we need.
The voice of compassion we most need is our own.
As an adult we have one thing to say to ourselves as a child, “I love you so much.”
The universe speaks; our telescopes listen.
All earth’s living things speak; they have their own grammar; they use their own vocabulary.
Neurons speak a language with a complex syntax.
Oralism is colonialism; sound is no more superior to signs than white is to black.
Deafness is not in need of the hearing-world’s prescription; it has it’s own fully-enriched signing community.
Languages die when communities perish; their echo remains.
All the arts are in transit; the pleasure lies in watching them go by.
Commerce elevates art, and art ennobles commerce.
Artistic is mystic and cryptic — and viciously capitalistic.
Art for the rich; crafts for the poor.
Technology hatches art; art spawns technology.
The arts brew tea the leisure class sips.
The individual is the art of the group, the group the art of the individual.
Each person creates a unique museum of paintings, music and fashion in a room inside themselves.
The arts — they are pliers; they yank out the deep emotions of our souls.
Format begets art, art format.
All the arts look longingly over their shoulders.
If everything is art, nothing is art.
Everything carries a song; not everything sings it.
The universe sings; all our attempts are merely efforts to sing along.
Some sing themselves; others sing us all.
A song sings because it has a bird.
We sing sweet dreams at weddings and fond memories at funerals.
Our favorite songs tell us what we want to hear.
Melody colors words.
Songs rise out of sentience; they descends into sentiment.
We are birthed with a cry, we are laid to rest with a song.
A song comes from a heart.
A home’s is a refuge; a bed is a sanctuary.
A bed is a place to recover; a world is a place to live.
A bed is safe, but a world is an adventure.
An ocean is a bed then it’s a mountain.
We begin and end in a bed.
Life needs only a mattress, a meal, a mountain and a mate.
All standing is sustained by lying down.
Few lie in the bed they make; they lie in the bed someone else made.
To bed, to bed insomniac head.
Calamity makes sustained bedfellows.
Live slow, die fast, leave a fully used corpse.
Mortality — it’s an ingenious solution for purposelessness, meanness, boredom, evil and everyday annoyances.
Immortality is created by memory — temporarily.
Immortality won’t bore us; it will be a fascination with an infinite complexity.
The longing for immortality is the longing for belonging.
Age is wasted on the old.
Live, give; mort abort.
Remember that you must die; do that so that you may live.
Beautician, mortician, detrition, transition.
Sovereignty isn’t the best policy.
A change in policy may blot out inequality.
The policies of the elite are the tank treads on top of the oppressed.
A policy is a leash: a law is a lash.
Policy — it pulverizes or protects.
Beyond policy lies wisdom.
Best policies value people.
A policy is a decision that makes a million other decisions.
The application of policy tests the tenacity of consistency.
Narratology is the proud mother of policy.
Comradely is the best policy.
Perform your values.
Achieve great things — being content.
Being is a form of doing.
We are born performing; we die at the end of the show.
We applaud performance; we memorialize being.
When we want an authentic experience we distain a superficial performance.
Your beliefs reside in your head; your values reside in your limbs.
All promises are best backed up by performances.
Do, rest, be, be, be.
Produce out of what flows from your heart not out of what demanded by your neediness.
To effect change in others, effect change in yourself.
Ruminate — then effectuate.
Treatment lacks in discretement.
To book a colonoscopy is brave; to actually go to one shows a stunning lack of self-regard.
Treatment — it is a salient reminder that we are not independent.
Sew up wounds — sooth minds.
Heroic medicine has two heroes — the practitioner, the victim.
The wise seek treatment; the very wise know when to stop.
A pill is a remedy that treats one symptom and causes another.
To go to a hospital is to surrender control; to not go is the same event.
Our minds decide what is therapeutic.
The over-examined life isn’t lived worthily.
To live fully, quit thinking overly.
Over-process; over-suffer.
Overthinking is a rollercoaster with a permanent loop and a never changing destination; you always get off where you got on.
Thinking about have fun is not having fun.
Eat, work and sleep as a rhythm — never worry that way.
To think of others is to escape yourself.
Laughter cures obsession.
Worry wastes; gratitude wonders.
It takes guts to shut up.
Guts will take you places brains can’t.
Follow your guts; drag your pain behind you.
Check your gut; use your brain.
You are your microbiome.
Audacity starts up the mountain; guts go over the top.
Pluck needs no luck.
Guts control arms and legs.
Spine will stand you in good stead.
Moxie has a limit — reality.
Brains can choose anything, even self-destruction, but guts choose life every time.
Be present; gifts surround you.
Hope is a gift of the heart — and previous successes.
All ordeals offer gifts.
Conversations are gifts, points of view, largesse.
Scan gifts; check for hinges, hooks, hangers.
Beware gifts wrapped in strings attached to reels.
Institutions give-take, harm-heal, gift-forfeit.
It is a gift to listen; it is the jackpot to be heard.
Solutions are special gifts, perpetual problems common realities.
Health is a gift; sickness comes bearing treasures too.
Doves gawk the setting sun; they understand the gift.
Grit and bear it; the grin is not required.
Grit your teeth if you must, grind on anyway.
Grind on; sans grit.
True as grit; false as grand.
Grit in the face of danger.
Grit is found in two places; in the dirt and in the person in the dirt.
Sandpaper your words; use a fine grit.
Eat sand; blast injustice.
The good life requires grit — and gratitude.
Modern Thought Proverbs, Aphorisms and Epigrams