Middle class shrinks
#41
You'll never cure the past.
You are what you eat.
Success belongs to individual achievement,decisions made and the lifestyle and goals you set for yourself. Anything less is a cop out.
It's a little late in vintage life to complain. Your Mom was right! You should have been a Doctor.
The middle class is a state of mind promoted by some to sooth the ambitions of others.
You are what you eat.
Success belongs to individual achievement,decisions made and the lifestyle and goals you set for yourself. Anything less is a cop out.
It's a little late in vintage life to complain. Your Mom was right! You should have been a Doctor.
The middle class is a state of mind promoted by some to sooth the ambitions of others.
#42
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
Early to rise and early to bed
Makes a man healthy and socially dead.
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
Early to rise and early to bed
Makes a man healthy and socially dead.
#43
I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Shelley
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Shelley
#44
Work without Hope
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair -
The bees are stirring -birds are on the wing -
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.
Coleridge
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair -
The bees are stirring -birds are on the wing -
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.
Coleridge
#45
Thread Starter
That Coleridge, what a card!
#46
Thread Starter
The Man Who Sold The World
We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago
Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago
Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World
-David Bowie
We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago
Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago
Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World
-David Bowie
#47
All too heavy for me...... where's the bar?
#48
I could very well be wrong? But, based on my recent experience middle class may be when one has too many assets (net worth) to qualify for programs like HARP or Veterans Benefits (why should the VA need a full financial disclosure, after all I served my country?) and not enough debts to be a problem for a bank? As the old saying goes: If one owes the bank a thousand dollars, that is your problem, If one owes the bank over a million dollars, that is the banks problem. Perhaps being middle class is falling between those two parameters?
#50
There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was much faster than light.
She set out one day
In a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
- Anonymous
Whose speed was much faster than light.
She set out one day
In a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
- Anonymous