When we live holy we will glorify self but when we glorify God we will live holy

Biggest tragedy of life is when God ask us to glorify Him for our sakes but we choose to glorify self for satan's good.

The real tragedy of life is not the fear of darkness, but it is to conform and follow the darkness in spite of fear.

My tragedy is no peculiar. It is as ordinary as a street dog. I struggle and cope with my wants, my needs,my desires, me deeds and my dreams. I am not disillusioned, only a bit translucent. Maybe, I fear the consequences.

In the blackness of the midnight sleep world, immunized from the harsh glare of daytime reality, the active imagination of the soul dances in the mind of a dream weaver. Safely shrouded in the all-encompassing blanket of darkness supplied by nighttime sleep, our secret wishes speak to us by channeling the collective mythology of the primordial mind. During the wee hours of night, right before first light, we summon our personal muse to tell us in operatic fashion what it means to be human. If we listen carefully, our muse’s heart songs shares with us what it means to experience both the tragedy and comedy of life, and encourages us to unreservedly embrace in a moral manner the banality, brutality, beauty, and splendor of nature that occurs eternally in the cosmic world that swaddles us.

A poet warrior realizes both the brutality and the beauty in life, and apprehends that the suffering we tragically endure is partly what makes us human. What also makes us human is the ability to love, the ability to stand in nature’s presence, and to nurture this earthly paradise to tend to our family’s needs.

They oppressed us but unable to kill our spirit.

Remember that we always love and think of you. Always. Mother.

Why won’t you help me?
You have to able to manage on your own.

No one can foretell the details in a day, we can only hope.

I wore you on me at all timesLike I now carry my pen.Unlike your own opinion myBelongings must have a function.You bled through the ink of my lines andTo be my subject nursed your thirst.Was it my fault, or your own, that you forgot—I do not deal in tender verse.

It is not triumph which defines a man, but tragedy. Triumph always brings out the best in men, but tragedy shows us what we are made of.

I wondered what things what things became when you no longer needed them, and I wondered what the future would hold once we'd gotten past our personal tragedies and proven them ultimately survivable.

Into every life may come tragedy and triumph. Our goal is to meet both equally with serenity and radiant acquiescence. Yet even from the storm clouds of tragedy, rainbows can appear.

Margarita was never short of money. She could buy whatever she liked. Her husband had plenty of interesting friends. Margarita never had to cook. Margarita knew nothing of the horrors of living in a shared flat. In short... was she happy? Not for a moment.

Do you believe that evil and tragedy are always planned? You don’t think Fortune has anything to do with it?

How we respond to tragedy is the hallmark of character. Suffering a great loss places us at a spiritual milepost. The wind of our souls can either sour and wither or rejoice and thrive.

Human life is an incongruous combination of tragedy and comedy.

Life is a mystical and tragic thing. It is a journey often full of fear, when it ought to be full of hope. It's fascinating to look back on your life and feel as though most of it was a precursor to the rest of it; to what was always supposed to be.