Beauty is not confined in one place.

Let's get high on life.

Days may be long but life is short itself.

Bazen olma ihtimali muhtemel sey normal standartlarda bir turlu
gerceklesmezken, en olmadik zaman ve mekan diliminde bir anda gerceklesiverir. Sanirim mucize denen sey de insanoglunun bu durumu kendince yorumlayisindan baska birsey olmasa gerek. Bu hayatta aklin eremedigi bircok sey var.

Until the lion learns to speak, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.

So one day, when it's all said and done
My life will be the bluest rap song ever sung
My verses will be curses to the rich and all sorts of authority will cease to exist
My daughters will be free of wars in my honor your fist
Will raise in the air, in the silence of revolution, my face will appear
Like the vision of a prisoner with his last beer
This song is a poem and the whole poem is a tear
Dropped in your ear

Aska turlu seylerle dolu hayat.

Yeni bir dunya aramak icin gec degil. Zaman ve kader gucsuz kilsa da bizi, sapasaglam irademiz var. Cabalamak, aramak, bulmak, ve pes etmemek icin.

Bir karar almak istiyorsan lodosun cikmasini bekle. Lodos once herseyi karistirir, estikce birbirine gecer hersey. Sonra yavas yavas durulur. Ve hersey lodosun ardindan cok daha net gorulur.

Hersey karsitiyla anlamli sanki. Bir gun, bir gece. Bir aydinlik, bir karanlik. Bir mec, bir cezir. Bir git, bir gel. Git, gel, git, gel...Yasamin karsitliklarla yuruyen ritmi. Karanlikta yildizlarin masallari, aydinlikta bulutlarin oykuleri. Icimizde sarmalanan ne zaman, nereden, ve ne sekilde hangi surprizleri hazirladigi bilinmeyen doya doya yasanmasi gereken bir hayat. Simdi yeni gun batimlari ve yepyeni gun dogumlari bekliyor bizi. Oyleyse, yeni bir gune yeni bir gunaydin.

If you expect the world to be fair with you because you're fair to them, it’s like asking a lion not to eat you because you don't eat lions.

UDALA TREE

There was an orphan boy
Who had no mother or father of his own.
He lived with his stepmother
And two stepbrothers.

Now whenever there was food to be had
The stepmother and the stepbrothers ate the good food
And gave the orphan boy only the scraps.

Whenever there was work to be done
The stepmother and the stepbrothers
Would do only the lightest work
And give all the hardest work to the boy.

Every day he had to sweep the compound,
Hoe the garden,
And bring water from the river.

One day when the boy was sweeping the compound
He found the seed of an Udala tree
Lodged in a crack in the ground.

The boy owned nothing of his own.
He thought I will keep this shiny Udala seed.
It will be something that belongs to me.

That night when the boy slept
He put the Udala seed under his pillow.
And while he slept he had a dream.

The boy dreamed that an Udala tree
Grew from the tiny seed under his pillow
And spread its branches over his head.

The next morning
The boy took the Udala seed to the garden.
He made a tiny hole and planted the seed.
He covered it over...
He brought water from the stream and watered it.

Then the boy sat down
And began to chant.

"Udala GROW!
Udala GROW!
Grow for motherless child!
Grow for fatherless child!
The earth is a place of call.
Man stops here and goes on."

And as the boy chanted
A tiny shoot began to grow from the Udala seed.

The boy chanted louder.

"..."

And as the boy chanted
The Udala tree began to grow...
It grew taller than the boy's head.

The boy became EXCITED!

"..."

Before his very eyes
That seed grew until it became a great Udala tree.
And it spread its branches over his head.

The boy sat in the shade of his very own Udala tree.
And he was happy.

Then the boy thought
"What if the tree should bear fruit?"

So the boy chanted:

"Udala FRUIT!
Udala FRUIT!
Fruit for motherless child!
Fruit for fatherless child!
The earth is a place of call.
Man stops here and goes on."

Then over his head
Udala fruit grew on the branches.
Tiny green Udala fruit covered the tree.

The boy chanted for the fruit to ripen.

"Udala RIPEN!
Udala RIPEN!
..."

All through the Udala tree
The fruit turned a ripe yellowish brown.

But the boy could not reach the fruit.
He called the fruit to....drop.

"Udala DROP!
Udala DROP!
..."

All about the boy
In his lap
On the ground
All around the tree
Fell the ripe Udala fruit.

The boy ate of the delicious Udala fruit.
Never had he been so full.
Never had he felt so contented.

In the evening the stepmother and stepbrothers
Returned from the village.
They saw the tall Udala tree in their garden
And were astonished.

The boy told them to pick whatever of the Udala
Fruit they wanted
From the ground.

But he warned them never to touch
His magic Udala tree.
They must never climb the tree
Or pick the fruit.

The stepmother and stepbrothers ate of the delicious
Fruit and were delighted.

Some days later
When the boy was hoeing the garden
He heard a noise in his tree.
The two stepbrothers had climbed the Udala tree
And were breaking the branches
To get at the fruit!

The orphan boy was FURIOUS!

He began to chant for the tree to grow
Higher into the air
Carrying the two boys with it.

"Udala GROW!
Udala GROW!
..."

The stepbrothers began to scream for help.

Their mother ran from the house.
She begged the orphan boy to stop the tree.

But he was angry
And he would not.

He chanted for the tree to grow taller
Into the sky.

"UDALA GROW!!!
UDALA GROW!!!
..."

And the tree grew taller...
Taller...
Taller...
Until the boys disappeared
Into the clouds.

The villagers ran to see this strange thing.
Then the stepmother...
Before all the assembled villagers...
Promised to give the boy
Only the best food to eat
Only the lightest work to do
If he would bring back her sons.

When the boy heard her make this promise
Before the entire village
He knew she would have to keep her promise.
And so he relented.

He called for the tree to shrink.

And slowly
The tree shrank back toward the earth
Until it was its normal size again
And the boys were able to climb back to the ground.

From that day
The orphan boy
Was given only the best food
And only the lightest labor
In that household.

And always...
Always...
That boy remembered to share with everyone
The fruit of his
MAGIC UDALA TREE.

A good man finds treasure; a bad neighbour imitates and finds filth. He drops the filth down the chimney of the good man and it turns to gold.

In the eyes of the villager handcuffs were the most deadly of the white man’s weapons. The sight of a fighting man reduced to impotence and helplessness with an iron lock was the final humiliation. It was a treatment given only to violent lunatics.

In all great compounds there must be people of all minds – some good, some bad, some fearless and some cowardly; those who bring in wealth and those who scatter it, those who give good advice and those who only speak the words of palm wine. That is why we say that whatever tune you play in the compound of a great man there is always someone to dance to it. The love of title is a universal human failing.

If a man sought for a companion who acted entirely like himself he would live in solitude.

When suffering knocks at your door and you say there is no seat left for him, he tells you not to worry because he has brought his own stool.

The world is changing. I do not like it. But I am like the bird Eneke-nti-oba. When his friends asked him why he was always on the wing he replied: ‘Men of today have learnt to shoot without missing and so I have learnt to fly without perching.’ I want one of my sons to join these people and be my eye there. If there is nothing in it you will come back. But if there is something there you will bring home my share. The world is like a Mask dancing. If you want to see it well you do not stand in one place. My spirit tells me that those who do not befriend the white man today will be saying had we known tomorrow.

You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love wind, but when it comes you close your windows. So that's why I am scared when you say you love me.

Vulnerability is the most accurate form of courage.

Everyday I am çapuling

Be the leader you wish to follow.

Drama is universal. It is a globalization of emotion.

- Always look at the full half of the glass, daughter.
- That glass is half full of shit, mom!

A tree once told another tree that he wanted to see how tall he could grow. And then its roots looked deeper in the ground for water, and its leaves changed accordingly, as did its flowers and its fruits.