Christmas in Dublin
I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. (Charles Dickens)
In the arms of Morpheus
Ah Dublin, where everything is fancy and fair, where the sun can wipe out the feel of cool grey stones of its houses and where things just get better by hearing the sound of a jig or reel. Not so this morning. Fancy and fair… only if you would let me stay under my duvet. Grey… yes, so much so I thought the city had turned into 50 shades of it. Sound of a jig or reel… urgh please no, major migraine in progress. The sound of an alarm going off just when Brad Pi… oh no it wasn’t him, it was yer one of Shrek. Yes, the green one… Shrek himself… taking a bubble bath… Naked… Doing a hula-dance to dry himself off… Héééééélp!!! Alarm clock… who invented you,…
When You Are Old, by William Butler Yeats
When you are old and gray and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire, take down this book and slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep. How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face. And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead, And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. (William Butler Yeats) © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2012. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner…
Ulysses, by James Joyce
“The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are paintings of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet bring our mind into contact with the eternal wisdom; Plato’s world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys.”
Quotes from Ulysses, by James Joyce
“The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are paintings of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet bring our mind into contact with the eternal wisdom; Plato’s world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys.”
The road well traveled
It’s always nice when people see positive changes in you, especially when they took a long time to manifest. A famous quote goes that “happiness is a journey, not a destination” and there is definitely some truth in that. Despite a few minor setbacks on a health level, I’ve sailed through my main illness this year without hospital stays or urgent medical care. As I’m writing this blog post I am balancing an ice pack between the back of my head and the couch to numb a headache and eye pain, and aside from a few bouts of major fatigue and nerve pains throughout the year, I am now, I believe, in the best physical state since quitting my job in December 2009. The fatigue, neuropathic pains, forgetfulness and tremors…
Wise words…
because…so… © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2017. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner are strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.