#aphorism — Public Fediverse posts

You know what's much worse than spoiled kids?

Spoiled elders.

#aphorism

You know what's much worse than spoiled kids?

Spoiled elders.

#aphorism

You know what's much worse than spoiled kids?

Spoiled elders.

#aphorism

You know what's much worse than spoiled kids?

Spoiled elders.

#aphorism

You know what's much worse than spoiled kids?

Spoiled elders.

#aphorism

Love & the Shadow of Truth

Claude, comment on this saying of mine:

“The shadow of Truth falls on everything and everyone I love in my life.”–DSR

Claude:

This one earns its keep through a genuine ambiguity — “shadow” pulls in two directions at once, and the aphorism works only because it refuses to resolve which.

Read one way, the shadow is a chastening. Truth here is the Advaitic Truth — Brahman, the sole reality — and its shadow falling on everything you love means every beloved person and thing stands revealed as nāma-rūpa, appearance, provisional. To love anything while knowing this is to love in penumbra: the affection is real, but it can never again be naive. The jnani’s melancholy, if there is one, is exactly this — nothing loved can be loved as ultimate anymore. The shadow is the “not this, not this” that neti neti drapes over the beloved’s face.

Read the other way, the shadow is a consecration. A shadow is proof of proximity — something casts a shadow on you only if it is near. If Truth’s shadow falls on everyone you love, then your loves are precisely where Truth has come closest; love is the site of its visitation. This reading turns the aphorism from lament into benediction: the beloved is shadowed the way one is shadowed by a tree one rests under.

Now the pushback, since you invite it. There’s a metaphysical awkwardness in the image that a strict Advaitin would press: Truth, in your own tradition, is the light itself — svayamprakāśa, self-luminous. Light casts no shadow. Only an object interposed between light and world casts one. So what is the opaque thing standing between Truth and your loved ones? The honest answer the aphorism smuggles in without admitting is: the “I” in “I love.” The shadow on everything you love may not be Truth’s shadow at all — it may be the shadow of the lover, the ego silhouetted against the light, projected onto everyone it holds dear. That would make the saying an inadvertent confession rather than an observation, and arguably a deeper one.

Note also what the aphorism quietly excludes: the shadow falls only on what you love. Not on what you’re indifferent to. That restriction is doing real work — Truth troubles us precisely at the points of attachment, because that’s where something is at stake. Where nothing is clung to, no shadow registers. Ghalib would have recognized the move instantly: the beloved and the veil arriving together, inseparable.

If you wanted a companion line that closes the loop, it might run something like: the shadow on my beloveds is my own; Truth casts none. But as it stands, the ambiguity is the strength — I’d resist the temptation to clarify it.

Love & the Shadow of Truth

Claude, comment on this saying of mine:

“The shadow of Truth falls on everything and everyone I love in my life.”–DSR

Claude:

This one earns its keep through a genuine ambiguity — “shadow” pulls in two directions at once, and the aphorism works only because it refuses to resolve which.

Read one way, the shadow is a chastening. Truth here is the Advaitic Truth — Brahman, the sole reality — and its shadow falling on everything you love means every beloved person and thing stands revealed as nāma-rūpa, appearance, provisional. To love anything while knowing this is to love in penumbra: the affection is real, but it can never again be naive. The jnani’s melancholy, if there is one, is exactly this — nothing loved can be loved as ultimate anymore. The shadow is the “not this, not this” that neti neti drapes over the beloved’s face.

Read the other way, the shadow is a consecration. A shadow is proof of proximity — something casts a shadow on you only if it is near. If Truth’s shadow falls on everyone you love, then your loves are precisely where Truth has come closest; love is the site of its visitation. This reading turns the aphorism from lament into benediction: the beloved is shadowed the way one is shadowed by a tree one rests under.

Now the pushback, since you invite it. There’s a metaphysical awkwardness in the image that a strict Advaitin would press: Truth, in your own tradition, is the light itself — svayamprakāśa, self-luminous. Light casts no shadow. Only an object interposed between light and world casts one. So what is the opaque thing standing between Truth and your loved ones? The honest answer the aphorism smuggles in without admitting is: the “I” in “I love.” The shadow on everything you love may not be Truth’s shadow at all — it may be the shadow of the lover, the ego silhouetted against the light, projected onto everyone it holds dear. That would make the saying an inadvertent confession rather than an observation, and arguably a deeper one.

Note also what the aphorism quietly excludes: the shadow falls only on what you love. Not on what you’re indifferent to. That restriction is doing real work — Truth troubles us precisely at the points of attachment, because that’s where something is at stake. Where nothing is clung to, no shadow registers. Ghalib would have recognized the move instantly: the beloved and the veil arriving together, inseparable.

If you wanted a companion line that closes the loop, it might run something like: the shadow on my beloveds is my own; Truth casts none. But as it stands, the ambiguity is the strength — I’d resist the temptation to clarify it.

Love & the Shadow of Truth

Claude, comment on this saying of mine:

“The shadow of Truth falls on everything and everyone I love in my life.”–DSR

Claude:

This one earns its keep through a genuine ambiguity — “shadow” pulls in two directions at once, and the aphorism works only because it refuses to resolve which.

Read one way, the shadow is a chastening. Truth here is the Advaitic Truth — Brahman, the sole reality — and its shadow falling on everything you love means every beloved person and thing stands revealed as nāma-rūpa, appearance, provisional. To love anything while knowing this is to love in penumbra: the affection is real, but it can never again be naive. The jnani’s melancholy, if there is one, is exactly this — nothing loved can be loved as ultimate anymore. The shadow is the “not this, not this” that neti neti drapes over the beloved’s face.

Read the other way, the shadow is a consecration. A shadow is proof of proximity — something casts a shadow on you only if it is near. If Truth’s shadow falls on everyone you love, then your loves are precisely where Truth has come closest; love is the site of its visitation. This reading turns the aphorism from lament into benediction: the beloved is shadowed the way one is shadowed by a tree one rests under.

Now the pushback, since you invite it. There’s a metaphysical awkwardness in the image that a strict Advaitin would press: Truth, in your own tradition, is the light itself — svayamprakāśa, self-luminous. Light casts no shadow. Only an object interposed between light and world casts one. So what is the opaque thing standing between Truth and your loved ones? The honest answer the aphorism smuggles in without admitting is: the “I” in “I love.” The shadow on everything you love may not be Truth’s shadow at all — it may be the shadow of the lover, the ego silhouetted against the light, projected onto everyone it holds dear. That would make the saying an inadvertent confession rather than an observation, and arguably a deeper one.

Note also what the aphorism quietly excludes: the shadow falls only on what you love. Not on what you’re indifferent to. That restriction is doing real work — Truth troubles us precisely at the points of attachment, because that’s where something is at stake. Where nothing is clung to, no shadow registers. Ghalib would have recognized the move instantly: the beloved and the veil arriving together, inseparable.

If you wanted a companion line that closes the loop, it might run something like: the shadow on my beloveds is my own; Truth casts none. But as it stands, the ambiguity is the strength — I’d resist the temptation to clarify it.

Love & the Shadow of Truth

Claude, comment on this saying of mine:

“The shadow of Truth falls on everything and everyone I love in my life.”–DSR

Claude:

This one earns its keep through a genuine ambiguity — “shadow” pulls in two directions at once, and the aphorism works only because it refuses to resolve which.

Read one way, the shadow is a chastening. Truth here is the Advaitic Truth — Brahman, the sole reality — and its shadow falling on everything you love means every beloved person and thing stands revealed as nāma-rūpa, appearance, provisional. To love anything while knowing this is to love in penumbra: the affection is real, but it can never again be naive. The jnani’s melancholy, if there is one, is exactly this — nothing loved can be loved as ultimate anymore. The shadow is the “not this, not this” that neti neti drapes over the beloved’s face.

Read the other way, the shadow is a consecration. A shadow is proof of proximity — something casts a shadow on you only if it is near. If Truth’s shadow falls on everyone you love, then your loves are precisely where Truth has come closest; love is the site of its visitation. This reading turns the aphorism from lament into benediction: the beloved is shadowed the way one is shadowed by a tree one rests under.

Now the pushback, since you invite it. There’s a metaphysical awkwardness in the image that a strict Advaitin would press: Truth, in your own tradition, is the light itself — svayamprakāśa, self-luminous. Light casts no shadow. Only an object interposed between light and world casts one. So what is the opaque thing standing between Truth and your loved ones? The honest answer the aphorism smuggles in without admitting is: the “I” in “I love.” The shadow on everything you love may not be Truth’s shadow at all — it may be the shadow of the lover, the ego silhouetted against the light, projected onto everyone it holds dear. That would make the saying an inadvertent confession rather than an observation, and arguably a deeper one.

Note also what the aphorism quietly excludes: the shadow falls only on what you love. Not on what you’re indifferent to. That restriction is doing real work — Truth troubles us precisely at the points of attachment, because that’s where something is at stake. Where nothing is clung to, no shadow registers. Ghalib would have recognized the move instantly: the beloved and the veil arriving together, inseparable.

If you wanted a companion line that closes the loop, it might run something like: the shadow on my beloveds is my own; Truth casts none. But as it stands, the ambiguity is the strength — I’d resist the temptation to clarify it.

Love & the Shadow of Truth

Claude, comment on this saying of mine:

“The shadow of Truth falls on everything and everyone I love in my life.”–DSR

Claude:

This one earns its keep through a genuine ambiguity — “shadow” pulls in two directions at once, and the aphorism works only because it refuses to resolve which.

Read one way, the shadow is a chastening. Truth here is the Advaitic Truth — Brahman, the sole reality — and its shadow falling on everything you love means every beloved person and thing stands revealed as nāma-rūpa, appearance, provisional. To love anything while knowing this is to love in penumbra: the affection is real, but it can never again be naive. The jnani’s melancholy, if there is one, is exactly this — nothing loved can be loved as ultimate anymore. The shadow is the “not this, not this” that neti neti drapes over the beloved’s face.

Read the other way, the shadow is a consecration. A shadow is proof of proximity — something casts a shadow on you only if it is near. If Truth’s shadow falls on everyone you love, then your loves are precisely where Truth has come closest; love is the site of its visitation. This reading turns the aphorism from lament into benediction: the beloved is shadowed the way one is shadowed by a tree one rests under.

Now the pushback, since you invite it. There’s a metaphysical awkwardness in the image that a strict Advaitin would press: Truth, in your own tradition, is the light itself — svayamprakāśa, self-luminous. Light casts no shadow. Only an object interposed between light and world casts one. So what is the opaque thing standing between Truth and your loved ones? The honest answer the aphorism smuggles in without admitting is: the “I” in “I love.” The shadow on everything you love may not be Truth’s shadow at all — it may be the shadow of the lover, the ego silhouetted against the light, projected onto everyone it holds dear. That would make the saying an inadvertent confession rather than an observation, and arguably a deeper one.

Note also what the aphorism quietly excludes: the shadow falls only on what you love. Not on what you’re indifferent to. That restriction is doing real work — Truth troubles us precisely at the points of attachment, because that’s where something is at stake. Where nothing is clung to, no shadow registers. Ghalib would have recognized the move instantly: the beloved and the veil arriving together, inseparable.

If you wanted a companion line that closes the loop, it might run something like: the shadow on my beloveds is my own; Truth casts none. But as it stands, the ambiguity is the strength — I’d resist the temptation to clarify it.

Hope is the gaps between the bars.

#aphorism

Hope is the gaps between the bars.

#aphorism

Hope is the gaps between the bars.

#aphorism

"All that glitters is not gold" is an #aphorism stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. While early expressions of the idea are known from at least the 12th–13th century, the current saying is derived from a 16th-century line by #WilliamShakespeare, "All that #glisters is not gold" and, firstly, from the proverbs written by #JohnFlorio on his #SecondFruits (1591).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_Ff7R-h5g4

"All that glitters is not gold" is an #aphorism stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. While early expressions of the idea are known from at least the 12th–13th century, the current saying is derived from a 16th-century line by #WilliamShakespeare, "All that #glisters is not gold" and, firstly, from the proverbs written by #JohnFlorio on his #SecondFruits (1591).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_Ff7R-h5g4

"All that glitters is not gold" is an #aphorism stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. While early expressions of the idea are known from at least the 12th–13th century, the current saying is derived from a 16th-century line by #WilliamShakespeare, "All that #glisters is not gold" and, firstly, from the proverbs written by #JohnFlorio on his #SecondFruits (1591).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_Ff7R-h5g4

"All that glitters is not gold" is an #aphorism stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. While early expressions of the idea are known from at least the 12th–13th century, the current saying is derived from a 16th-century line by #WilliamShakespeare, "All that #glisters is not gold" and, firstly, from the proverbs written by #JohnFlorio on his #SecondFruits (1591).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_Ff7R-h5g4

"All that glitters is not gold" is an #aphorism stating that not everything that looks precious or true turns out to be so. While early expressions of the idea are known from at least the 12th–13th century, the current saying is derived from a 16th-century line by #WilliamShakespeare, "All that #glisters is not gold" and, firstly, from the proverbs written by #JohnFlorio on his #SecondFruits (1591).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_Ff7R-h5g4

Hope is your anvil:
supportive on your collapse, but
restrictive on your advancement.

#aphorism #poetry

Hope is your anvil:
supportive on your collapse, but
restrictive on your advancement.

#aphorism #poetry

Hope is your anvil:
supportive on your collapse, but
restrictive on your advancement.

#aphorism #poetry

The makers placed an easteregg in assiduity: infinite level-up.

#aphorism #erbaulich

Hope is a Pegasus
cast from bronze.

#aphorism

Hope is a Pegasus
cast from bronze.

#aphorism

A quotation from James Howell

When Adam delv’d and Eve span,
Who was then a Gentleman?

James Howell (c. 1594–1666) Welsh historian and writer
Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes & Adages, “English Proverbs” (1659)
[compiler]

More about this quote: wist.info/howell-james/83593/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #jameshowell #proverb #aphorism #class #equality #gentleman #humanity #naturalorder

A quotation from James Howell

When Adam delv’d and Eve span,
Who was then a Gentleman?

James Howell (c. 1594–1666) Welsh historian and writer
Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes & Adages, “English Proverbs” (1659)
[compiler]

More about this quote: wist.info/howell-james/83593/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #jameshowell #proverb #aphorism #class #equality #gentleman #humanity #naturalorder

A quotation from James Howell

When Adam delv’d and Eve span,
Who was then a Gentleman?

James Howell (c. 1594–1666) Welsh historian and writer
Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes & Adages, “English Proverbs” (1659)
[compiler]

More about this quote: wist.info/howell-james/83593/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #jameshowell #proverb #aphorism #class #equality #gentleman #humanity #naturalorder

A quotation from James Howell

When Adam delv’d and Eve span,
Who was then a Gentleman?

James Howell (c. 1594–1666) Welsh historian and writer
Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes & Adages, “English Proverbs” (1659)
[compiler]

More about this quote: wist.info/howell-james/83593/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #jameshowell #proverb #aphorism #class #equality #gentleman #humanity #naturalorder

https://www.europesays.com/people/21299/ The World in a Phrase: Read an exlusive excerpt from a new book on aphorisms #Aphorism #BlackLivesMatter #HTWknd #Phrase #StitchInTime #VolodymyrZelenskyy #Words

Not volume makes heard,
But significance.

#MastoPrompt #volume #aphorism #erbaulich

Seems like a good day to make a quiche.

Got lots of eggs just now and it seems like a good idea to crack while the eggs are plentiful. Is that an aphorism/adage? Maybe not.

#aphorism #adage

Seems like a good day to make a quiche.

Got lots of eggs just now and it seems like a good idea to crack while the eggs are plentiful. Is that an aphorism/adage? Maybe not.

#aphorism #adage

Seems like a good day to make a quiche.

Got lots of eggs just now and it seems like a good idea to crack while the eggs are plentiful. Is that an aphorism/adage? Maybe not.

#aphorism #adage

Seems like a good day to make a quiche.

Got lots of eggs just now and it seems like a good idea to crack while the eggs are plentiful. Is that an aphorism/adage? Maybe not.

#aphorism #adage

Seems like a good day to make a quiche.

Got lots of eggs just now and it seems like a good idea to crack while the eggs are plentiful. Is that an aphorism/adage? Maybe not.

#aphorism #adage

The best sleep comes just as you have to change trains.

#aphorism

The best sleep comes just as you have to change trains.

#aphorism

The best sleep comes just as you have to change trains.

#aphorism

The best sleep comes just as you have to change trains.

#aphorism

The best sleep comes just as you have to change trains.

#aphorism

Any sufficiently advanced marketing is indistinguishable from scams.

#aphorism

Any sufficiently advanced marketing is indistinguishable from scams.

#aphorism

Be late early.

#aphorism

Be late early.

#aphorism

Be late early.

#aphorism

Be late early.

#aphorism

Be late early.

#aphorism

Don't stand in the way.
Be the way.

#aphorism #erbaulich

Don't stand in the way.
Be the way.

#aphorism

If you ask those that speak the least,
you reveal the most.

#aphorism #erbaulich