I don’t really talk about my clothing line “QUOTES” Clothing on here. I should. The themes of each (life, art, inspiration) are too similar to not.
Every day short inspirational letters/blog posts are emailed every morning to all the subscribers. So I thought I’d treat you to seven of my favorite ones so far. And although I attribute the letters to the person who’s quote it was inspired by, all letters are written by me and are thus fictional. (Oh, and of course there’s clothing in all this.)
So let’s get started with the letters:
My dear,
Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.
They fish and fish, before realizing they are actually wood-smiths. They fish and fish, before realizing they are actually word-smiths…. They fish and fish before realizing that they do not want to fish. They learn too late that they’d rather follow their own hearts that fish.
My dear, replace fish with work and you’ll see what I speak of.
Truly yours,
Henry David Thoreau
My dear,
You know what I tell myself everytime I write?
Faster, faster, until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death.
I sit on my chair, and force myself to write… and keep writing, until I get to that point where it’s no longer the fear of mortage payments that’s driving me, ’till it’s no longer the thoughts of long days with empty stomachs forcing my fingers to glide over that keyboard – but instead, the thrill of writing one letter after the other, one word after the next, one sentence after the former… until I write for writing in itself.
It’s comparable to riding down a one way dead-end steep highway on a bike with no brakes. At first all you can think about is your death in the more than likely head-busting collision that’s about to happen. But pretty soon you realize that the road is infinitely long and infinitely steep – all you’re doing is gaining speed, and there’s no end in sight. Heck, you can probably ride this thing now with no arms.
And that’s when the fun starts.
Truly yours,
Hunter Stockton Thompson
My dear,
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.
For when I took the one less traveled I saw what most don’t see… and more I imagine. I saw the wild, I saw untamed land, and I saw beasts! Oh, how I saw beasts that knew not of man. Great and wonderful beasts. They welcomed me amongst their own, for they hadn’t yet learnt of the cruelty of man.
Oh what I sight it was. These were not the beasts I was raised to fear. The beasts that consumed my dreams with their bloodshed and eyes that glow with hunger and hate. These beasts were kind and noble. So noble in fact that I can no longer call them beasts without feeling shame descend upon me. For these beasts were me – with different clothing. How could have hated them so?! How could the world hate them so?!
And as I left the woods I walked upon the more traveled road with new light. I saw it for what it was. Weary and boring and beast-less.
Oh, how I yearn for the days I find myself upon a road that diverges in the woods, for I miss the path less traveled. I miss the noble beasts.
Truly yours,
Robert Lee Frost
My dear,
Yesterday I conformed to please the people.
They cheered for me and applauded so loud that their hand claps sounded like an ocean about to consume me.
But I was not happy.
It felt like I had thrown away my heart to please the world.
Their cheers felt empty, and the ocean was no longer beautiful.
The reward for conformity is that everyone likes you but yourself.
That’s what I learnt yesterday.
Today I woke up having learnt a new lesson. That the reward you give yourself far outweighs the rewards everyone gives you en masse. Leaving conformity to be nothing but cheap retail.
Truly yours,
Rita Mae Brown
My dear,
One group says God hates the other group.
The other group says God hates the one group.
I say:
You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.
For I believe that God, unreflected through the prism of you, is a lover. I believe God loves all, equally.
Only when reflected, and dirtied, through the prism of individuals who want to have might on their side is God bias. Only then is God without love.
Truly yours,
Anne Lamott
My dear,
Yesterday, as you cried about how you failed (yet again), you told me how those must be the saddest words ever spoken.
I’ve thought about it, and you’re wrong. The saddest words ever spoken were not “I failed,” or “I tried and failed.”
For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, ‘It might have been’.
So cheer up.
You tried, and contrary to popular (and your own) belief you are one of the happiest people in the world. Because you tried. You had courage to try. And few of us have that courage.
Truly yours,
John Greenleaf Whittier
My dear,
We remember the nights we went out, got drunk as hell and threw up all over the place. We remember the nights we almost got arrested. We remember the nights we don’t remember. For they were the best.
No one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they got plenty of sleep.
No one.
Truly yours,