Parabéns maninho!

Deixa lá que os trintões são "sexies à doida" :D

(E os de 26 também não estão mal, Jorge.)


Buddhism

“Right Speech” is a necessary part of this karmic self-disarmament, for it involves the avoidance of anything and everything that might take the speaker in harmful directions: swearing, gossiping, backbiting, slandering and wasting other’s people’s time with idle chatter. It also means telling the truth at all the times and keeping silent rather than saying something that is neither productive nor helpful.

“Two men, one of them blind, were walking down a long and dusty road, and the man who could see said, ‘God, what I wouldn’t do for a glass of milk!’ And the blind man said, ‘Glass I know. But what is this milk you speak of?’ And the man who could see said, ‘Milk is a white liquid’. And the man who was blind said, ‘Liquid I know. But what is this white you speak of?’ And the man who could see said, ‘White is the colour of a swan’s feathers’. And the man who was blind said, ‘Feathers I know. But what is this swan you speak of?’ The man who could see said, ‘A swan is, um, well, a bird with a crooked neck.’ And the blind man, persisting, said, ‘Bird I know, and neck I know. But what is this crooked you speak of?’ Finally, in exasperation, the man who could see took the blind’s man arm and pulled it out straight from his shoulder. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is straight.’ Then he bent it at the elbow. ‘And that,’ he said, ‘is crooked.’ And the blind man breathed a sigh and said, ‘Ah, now I understand what milk is!’
- Einstein (when asked to explain relativity’s theory in a few words)


Para o Bola de Cristal:

"Quando veio,
Mostrou-me as mãos vazias,
As mãos como os meus dias,
Tão leves e banais.
E pediu-me
Que lhe levasse o medo,
Eu disse-lhe um segredo:
«NÃO PARTAS NUNCA MAIS»

E dançou,
Rodou no chão molhado,
Num beijo apertado
De barco contra o cais.

E uma asa voa
A cada beijo teu,
Esta noite
Sou dono do céu,
E eu não sei quem te perdeu.

Abraçou-me
Como se abraça o tempo,
A vida num momento
Em gestos nunca iguais.
E parou,
Cantou contra o meu peito,
Num beijo imperfeito
Roubado nos umbrais.

E partiu,
Sem me dizer o nome,
Levando-me o perfume
De tantas noites mais.

E uma asa voa
A cada beijo teu,
Esta noite
Sou dono do céu,
E eu não sei quem te perdeu."
- Abrunhosa
  ¶ 11:14 PM