By-passing all scriptures and all that any teacher has to say, we shall, while respecting every finger that points to the moon, be mindful only of the moon. This habit will make it easier to understand the truth that every statement is wrong, whenever made by any man, for it was made in duality and is therefore one-sided, incomplete, and in the final synthesis its opposite is just as true!
If you had to spend every second, of every day, of every year of your life with someone, would you do whatever it took to love that person? Would you be a best friend, a teacher, coach and mentor? Would you do whatever it takes to treat that person with respect? Well guess what? That someone is you! Who deserves the best more than you do? Think about it and have an outstanding day…!
Claire said. “I might be able to get him to stop.” “Who, crazy dude? Maybe. Or he might pull your head off,” Shane said. “I kind of worry.”She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?”“A little bit.”“That’s …nice.”He studied her, and returned the smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Kind of is, actually.
The only good teachers for you are those friends who love you, who think you are interesting, or very important, or wonderfully funny; whose attitude is:"Tell me more. Tell me all you can. I want to understand more about everything you feel and know and all the changes inside and out of you. Let more come out."And if you have no such friend,--and you want to write,--well, then you must imagine one.
You okay?""Fine.""Your heart's beating really fast.""Gee, thanks. That's very comforting that you can hear it."He smiled, and it was the old Michael, the one she'd first met before all the vamp stuff."Yeah, I know it is. Sorry. Just stay behind me if there's trouble.""You sound like Shane.""Well, he did say he'd kill me if I got you hurt. I'm just looking after my own neck.""Liar.
What the critic as a teacher of language tries to teach is not an elegant accomplishment, but the means of conscious life. Literary education should lead not merely to the admiration of great literature, but to some possession of its power of utterance. The ultimate aim is an ethical and participating aim, not an aesthetic or contemplative one, even though the latter may be the means of achieving the former.
Well we're waiting here in Allentown,For the Pennsylvania we never found,For the promises our teachers gave,If we worked hard,If we behaved...So the graduations hang on the wall,But they never really helped us at all,No they never taught us what was real,Iron and coke,And chromium steel,And we're waiting here in Allentown...But they've taken all the coal from the ground,And the union people crawled away...
He's not doing anything he shouldn't be doing, right?" "Like what?""Like hitting on you.""Ew. No, of course not. He doesn't see me that way." Michael shook his head and went back to his coffee."What? You think he does?""Sometimes he looks at you a little... oddly, that's all. Maybe you're right. Maybe he just wants you for your blood.""Again, Ew! What's with you this morning?""Not enough coffee.
One thing: you have to walk, and create the way by your walking; you will not find a ready-made path. It is not so cheap, to reach to the ultimate realization of truth. You will have to create the path by walking yourself; the path is not ready-made, lying there and waiting for you. It is just like the sky: the birds fly, but they don't leave any footprints. You cannot follow them; there are no footprints left behind.
Teachers can be a living example to their students. Not that teachers should look for students to idealize them. One who is worth idealizing does not care whether others idealize them or not. Everyone needs to see that you not only teach human values but you live them. It is unavoidable sometimes you will be idealized -- it is better for children to have a role model, or goal, because then the worshipful quality in them can dawn.
It was a bitch living with your old English teacher, especially when your old English teacher wasn’t old at all, and he had exactly the kind of body that most appealed to her, tall and lean, broad in the shoulder, narrow at the hip. Then there was his brain. It had taken her a lot of years to find that particular part of a man appealing, but she’d finally gotten in the habit, and she couldn’t seem to give it up.
„- Co do młodzieży, to ja tam jej nie kocham. (…) Szczerze mówiąc, wielu z nich to nawet nie lubię, proszę pani. Ale w miarę sił – pospieszył z zapewnieniem – w miarę sił staram się być dla nich łagodny i wyrozumiały. Ostatecznie, każdy z nas musiał kiedyś przejść przez to piekło zwane młodością.
I had a dream about you. You were trying to understand the nature of nature, and I was trying to understand understanding. I thought we looked like philosophers, but your mother thought we looked like porn stars. Yes, we were naked, and yes, we were having sex, but isn’t that the best way to really go about knowing knowledge? Anyway, if your mother wasn’t happy with our teaching methods, she shouldn’t have signed up for our class.
I met with a man. His name is, "Michael Bush", a very sophisticated sage. He said to me, "Michael, don't associate yourself with people in your age bracket, but relate with elderly men, who had achieve in life far more greater than you, and then, there will be no hidden place for jealousy in his heart, but if you happen to mingle with your mates, they will always say, "why always Michael, why not me?" and you'll be poisoned sooner or later.
He sat at his desk – last seat, last row – and looked at the chart on the wall next to him. Of course there was no gold star next to his name. He had already done three things wrong: First, he had knocked over a girl and made her cry. Second, he was late getting back to class. And third and worst of all, his name was Bradley Chalkers. As long as his name was Bradley Chalker's, he'd never get a gold star. They don't give gold stars to monsters.
