The word of the Lorax But now, says the Once-ler, Now that you're here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not. Dr. Seuss, The Lorax careconservation
Why aim small? Why aim small in this era of fast computers with plenty of RAM? A number of reasons, but the ones that are most important to me are: Fewer moving parts. It’s easier to create more robust systems and to fix things when they do go wrong. Small software is faster. Fewer bits to download and clog your computer’s memory. Reduced power consumption. This is important on a “save the planet” scale, but also on the very local scale of increasing the battery life of your phone and laptop. The light, frugal aesthetic. That’s personal, I know, but as you’ll see, I’m not alone. Ben Hoyt, The small web is beautiful benhoyt.com performancesystemsconservation
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage A Poem by Lord Byron www.gutenberg.org And thus the heart will breakWords which are thingsThere is a pleasure in the pathless woods lovenaturelonelinessmelancholy
And thus the heart will break They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling, mourn: The tree will wither long before it fall: The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn; The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall In massy hoariness; the ruined wall Stands when its wind-worn battlements are gone; The bars survive the captive they enthral; The day drags through though storms keep out the sun; And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on. SceneryA little act of hope timelovemelancholyi
Words which are things I have not loved the world, nor the world me; I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed To its idolatries a patient knee,— Nor coined my cheek to smiles, nor cried aloud In worship of an echo; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such; I stood Among them, but not of them; in a shroud Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued. I have not loved the world, nor the world me,— But let us part fair foes; I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may be Words which are things,—hopes which will not deceive, And virtues which are merciful, nor weave Snares for the falling: I would also deem O'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; That two, or one, are almost what they seem,— That goodness is no name, and happiness no dream. solitudegoodness
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more. nature