T-Shirt Island

It is not difficult to imagine a world short of ambition. It would probably be a kinder world: without demands, without abrasions, without disappointments. People would have time for reflection. Such work as they did would not be for themselves but for the collectivity. Competition would never enter in. conflict would be eliminated, tension become a thing of the past. The stress of creation would be at an end. Art would no longer be troubling, but purely celebratory in its functions. Longevity would be increased, for fewer people would die of heart attack or stroke caused by tumultuous endeavor. Anxiety would be extinct. Time would stretch on and on, with ambition long departed from the human heart.

　　Ah, how unrelieved boring life would be!

　　There is a strong view that holds that success is a myth, and ambition therefore a sham. Does this mean that success does not really exist? That achievement is at bottom empty? That the efforts of men and women are of no significance alongside the force of movements and events now not all success, obviously, is worth esteeming, nor all ambition worth cultivating. Which are and which are not is something one soon enough learns on one’s own. But even the most cynical secretly admit that success exists; that achievement counts for a great deal; and that the true myth is that the actions of men and women are useless. To believe otherwise is to take on a point of view that is likely to be deranging. It is, in its implications, to remove all motives for competence, interest in attainment, and regard for posterity.

　　We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time or conditions of our death. But within all this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we shall live: courageously or in cowardice, honorably or dishonorably, with purpose or in drift. We decide what is important and what is trivial in life. We decide that what makes us significant is either what we do or what we refuse to do. But no matter how indifferent the universe may be to our choices and decisions, these choices and decisions are ours to make. We decide. We choose. And as we decide and choose, so are our lives formed. In the end, forming our own destiny is what ambition is about.

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a

　　quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

　　Youth means a tempera-mental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.

　　Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spring back to dust.

　　Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonder,the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station: so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young.

　　When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at 80.

Knowledge can be acquired from many sources. These include books, teachers and practical experience, and each has its own advantages. The knowledge we gain from books and formal education enables us to learn about things that we have no opportunity to experience in daily life. We can study all the places in the world and learn from people we will never meet in our lifetime, just by reading about them in books. We can also develop our analytical skills and learn how to view and interpret the world around us in different ways. Furthermore, we can learn from the past by reading books. In this way, we won’t repeat the mistakes of others and can build on their achievements.

　　Practical experience, on the other hand, can give us more useful knowledge. It is said that one learns best by doing, and I believe that this is true, whether one is successful or not. In fact, I think making mistakes is the best way to learn. Moreover, if one wants to make new advances, it is necessary to act. Innovations do not come about through reading but through experimentation. Finally, one can apply the skills and insights gained through the study of books to practical experience, making an already meaningful experience more meaningful. However, unless it is applied to real experiences, book knowledge remains theoretical and, in the end, is useless. That is why I believe that knowledge gained from practical experience is more important than that acquired from books.

Echo was a nymph who talked too much．She was very fond of having the last words．One day she sPoke rudely to the great Hera，who said that for this offence  Echo should never use her voice again，unless to repeat what she hadjust heard，but since she was very fond of last words，she might repeat the last words of others．This was almost as bad as if Hera had changed her into a parrot．Echo was very much ashamed，and hid herself in the forest．

Narcissus，a young man who had hair as yellow as gold an deyes as blue as the sky，——a very rare thing in Greece，where most people were very dark，——used to hunt in the forest where Echo was hiding．As she was looking out shyly from somecave or from behind a great tree，Echo often saw Narcissus，andshe admired him very much．

One say Narcissus became separated from his friends，andhearing something rustle among the leaves，he called out，“Who’s here？”

“Here，” answered Echo．

“Here I am．Come！”said Narcissus.

“I am come，” said Echo；and，as she spoke，she came outfrom among the trees．

When Narcissus saw a stranger， instead of one of his friendsas he had expected，he looked surprised and walked quickly away.

After this， Echo never came out and allowed herself to be seen again ，and in time she disappeared till she became only a voice．

This voice was heard for many，many years in forests and among mountains，particularly in caves．In their lonely walks，hunters often heard it．Sometimes it repeated the barking of their dogs；sometimes it repeated their own last words．It  always had a strange and sad sound，and seemed to make lonely places more lonely still．

One evening, the sun was just setting in with true splendor when ¹⁾a flock of beautiful large birds appeared out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen anything so beautiful. They were dazzlingly white with long waving necks. They were swans and uttering a peculiar cry. They spread out their magnificent broad wings and flew away from the cold regions toward warmer lands and open seas.       

They mounted so high, so very high, and the ugly little duckling became strangely uneasy. He circled around and around in the water like a wheel, craning his neck out into the air after them. Then he uttered the shriek so piercing and so strange that he was quite frightened by himself. Oh, he could not forget those beautiful birds, those happy birds and as soon as they were out of sight. He ducked right down to the bottom and when he came up again, he was quite beside himself. He did not know what the birds were or where’d they flew. But all the same, he was more drawn towards them than he had ever been by any creatures before. He did not envy them in the least. How could it occur to him even to wish to be such a marvelous beauty? He wouldn’t be thankful if only the ducks would have tolerated him among them, the poor ugly creature.

Early in the morning, a peasant came along and saw him, he went out onto the ice and hammered a hole in it with his heavy wooden shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. There, it soon revived. The children wanted to play with it. But the duckling thought they were going to ill use him and rushed in and he frightened to the milk-pan, and the milk spurted out all over the room. The woman shrieked and threw up her hands. Then it flew to the butter-cask and down into the meal-tub and out again. Oh, just imagine what it looked like by this time. The woman screamed and tried to hit it with the tongs, and the children tumbled over one another in trying to catch it, and they screamed with laughter.

By good luck, the door stood open and the duckling flew out among the bushes and the new fallen snow. And it lay there, thoroughly exhausted, but it would be too sad to mention all the privation and misery had to go through during that hard winter. When the sun began to shine warmly again, the duckling was in a marsh, lying among the rushes. The larks were singing, and the beautiful spring had come. Then all at once, it raised its wings and they flapped with much greater strength than before and bore him off vigorously. Before he knew where he was, he found himself in a large garden with the apple trees were in full blossom. And the air was scentedly with lilacs, the long branches of which overhung the indented shores of the lake. Oh, the spring freshness was so delicious. Just in front of him, he saw three beautiful white swans advancing towards him from a ¹⁰⁾thicket. With ¹¹⁾rustling feathers, they swam lightly over the water. The duckling recognized the majestic birds, and he was overcome by a strange melancholy.

“I will fly to them, the royal birds, and they will hack me to pieces because I who am so ugly venture to approach them. But it won’t matter. Better to be killed by them than be snacked up by the ducks, ¹²⁾pecked by the hens, or ¹³⁾spurned by the hen wife, or suffer so much misery in the winter.” So he flew into the water and swam towards the stately swans. They saw him and darted toward him with ruffled feathers. “Kill me, oh, kill me.” said the poor creature. And bowing his head towards the water, he awaited his death. But what did he see? Reflected in the transparent water, he saw below him his own image, but he was no longer a clumsy dark gray bird, ugly and ungainly. He was himself, a swan.

A man from the state of Chu was crossing a river. In the boat, his sword fell into the water. Immediately he made a mark on the boat.
　　“This is where my sword fell off,” he said.
　　When the boat stopped moving, he went into the water to look for his sword at the place where he had marked the boat.
　　The boat had moved but the sword had not. Is this not a very foolish way to look for a sword?

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can share my bread with you,
and sometimes share a sorrow, too..

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can sit an hour with you,
and I can share a joke with you,
and sometimes share reverses, too..

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can share my flowers with you,
and I can share my books with you,
and sometimes share your burdens, too..

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can share my songs with you,
and I can share my mirth with you,
and sometimes come and laugh with you..

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can share my hopes with you,
and I can share my fears with you,
and sometimes shed some tears with you..

There isn’t much that I can do,
but I can share my friends with you,
and I can share my life with you,
and oftentimes share a prayer with you.

Once there was a very rich man. He lived in a beautiful house, and had a beautiful garden. The rich man had a blue beard: so he was called  “Blue Beard”.
Near the rich man’s house there lived a poor woman. She had three sons and two beautiful girls. The name of one of the girls was Ann; the name of the other was Fatima. Blue Beard wanted to marry one of the girls, but the girls did not want to marry Blue Beard.
Ann and Fatima did not want to marry the rich man because his beard was blue. Blue Beard had married many wives, but his wives had gone away. No one knew where his other wives had gone. The girls did not want to marry Blue Beard and become his wife, because no one knew where his other wives had gone. So their mother said to Blue Beard, “My girls do not want to marry you.”
Then Blue Beard said, “Come and live in my house for some days.” So they went and lived in Blue Beard’s house. It was a very beautiful house, and Blue Beard was good to them in many ways.

Fatima said, “His beard is blue, but he is not a bad man. He is very good in some ways. So I will marry him.”Once there was a very rich man. He lived in a beautiful house, and had a beautiful garden. The rich man had a blue beard: so he was called  “Blue Beard”.
Near the rich man’s house there lived a poor woman. She had three sons and two beautiful girls. The name of one of the girls was Ann; the name of the other was Fatima. Blue Beard wanted to marry one of the girls, but the girls did not want to marry Blue Beard.
Ann and Fatima did not want to marry the rich man because his beard was blue. Blue Beard had married many wives, but his wives had gone away. No one knew where his other wives had gone. The girls did not want to marry Blue Beard and become his wife, because no one knew where his other wives had gone. So their mother said to Blue Beard, “My girls do not want to marry you.”
Then Blue Beard said, “Come and live in my house for some days.” So they went and lived in Blue Beard’s house. It was a very beautiful house, and Blue Beard was good to them in many ways.
Fatima said, “His beard is blue, but he is not a bad man. He is very good in some ways. So I will marry him.”

All over my garden I’ve planted nothing but roses, fragrant and—if looked at from afar—ablaze with color like sunset clouds, I’d be very happy if anyone of my visiting friends should desire to pick and take some for their homes. I trust that any friend of mine carrying the rose would vanish into the distance feeling that his emotions had been rekindled.

A close friend came for a visit the other day. I know her to be a lover of flowers and plants. And for that reason I told her at her departure that she should pick a bunch of roses to grace her boudoir. I promised that the scent of the roses would be wafted far, far away.

That girl friend of mine, tiptoeing into the garden in high spirits, sniffed here and smelt there, but in the end she didn’t pick a single rose. I said there were so many of them that she would pick as many as she’d like to; I told her that I was not a florist and didn’t make a living out of them. Saying so I raised the scissors for the sacrifice of the flowers, but she stopped me, crying no, no, no!

To cut such beautiful roses would hurt one, she said. With her hands clutching at my sleeves, she told me that by no means should they be cut. Roses are the smiling face of the earth, and who could be so iron-hearted as to destroy a smile so intoxicating?

My mind was thoroughly boggled: the ugly earth, the humble earth, the plain earth—it is for the sake of that smile that it wins the care and pity of people.

has a fisherman to have first-class catches fish the technology, is politely called by the people are the `fishing king ‘. However the `fishing king ‘ old time non- is often worried, because his three sons’ fishing techniques are very mediocre. therefore frequently relates in heart’s worried to the human: “I am not really clear, I catch fish the technology is such good, why my son does such miss? I sensible catch fish the technology from them on the instruction to them, teaches from the most basic thing, how tells them to weave a fishing net easily to catch the fish, how to row a boat most will not alarm the fish, will the bottom wire be how easiest to ask the fish to enter the jar. They grew up , how did I teach them to know the tide, distinguished the fishing season. . .

Every my elder summarizes laboriously the experience, my hao did not have the retention instruction to give them, but they caught fish the technology not to be able to catch up with the technology unexpectedly fisherman’s son who was worse than me!” after a passer-by has listened to his relation, asked: “you have taught them hand in hand?” “, to let them obtain first-class catches fish the technology, I teach carefully to be very patient very much.” “they continuously with along with you?” “, to let them little detour, I have let them study with me.” the passer-by said: “mentions like this, your mistake was very obvious. You only taught have given them the technology, actually did not have the instruction to teach for him, regarding could, not have the lesson not to be dissimilar with the experience, could not cause the human to become the great talent!”