Linux Wisdom: 235 of 402 |
My theology, briefly, is that the universe was dictated but not signed.
-- Christopher Morley
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Linux Wisdom: 236 of 402 |
Nasrudin called at a large house to collect for charity. The servant said
"My master is out." Nasrudin replied, "Tell your master that next time he
goes out, he should not leave his face at the window. Someone might steal it."
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Linux Wisdom: 237 of 402 |
Nasrudin returned to his village from the imperial capital, and the villagers
gathered around to hear what had passed. "At this time," said Nasrudin, "I
only want to say that the King spoke to me." All the villagers but the
stupidest ran off to spread the wonderful news. The remaining villager
asked, "What did the King say to you?" "What he said -- and quite distinctly,
for everyone to hear -- was 'Get out of my way!'" The simpleton was overjoyed;
he had heard words actually spoken by the King, and seen the very man they
were spoken to.
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Linux Wisdom: 238 of 402 |
Nasrudin walked into a shop one day, and the owner came forward to serve
him. Nasrudin said, "First things first. Did you see me walk into your
shop?"
"Of course."
"Have you ever seen me before?"
"Never."
"Then how do you know it was me?"
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Linux Wisdom: 239 of 402 |
Nasrudin walked into a teahouse and declaimed, "The moon is more useful
than the sun."
"Why?", he was asked.
"Because at night we need the light more."
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Linux Wisdom: 240 of 402 |
Nasrudin was carrying home a piece of liver and the recipe for liver pie.
Suddenly a bird of prey swooped down and snatched the piece of meat from his
hand. As the bird flew off, Nasrudin called after it, "Foolish bird! You
have the liver, but what can you do with it without the recipe?"
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Linux Wisdom: 241 of 402 |
Ninety percent of everything is crap.
-- Theodore Sturgeon
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Linux Wisdom: 242 of 402 |
Ninety percent of the time things turn out worse than you thought they would.
The other ten percent of the time you had no right to expect that much.
-- Augustine
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Linux Wisdom: 243 of 402 |
No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the
Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea,
Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if
a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes
me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know
for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
-- John Donne, "No Man is an Iland"
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Linux Wisdom: 244 of 402 |
No matter where I go, the place is always called "here".
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