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Once again, I am attempting to rebuild HappyOtter to match the dream of how I wish it would look. I wonder how far I will get this time before I am distracted by an adventure or volunteer project?


Quotes, poems, and photos are working now and are searchable!

Currently establishing userpoint system for Random Acts of Kindness.

Points will allow purchase of nature photos via online shop.

Online shop has begun to work (still needs lots of work).


Old website content still available by clicking here.

Donations are possible below...

Quotes (click to search)

Be bold - and mighty forces will come to your aid.
Yes, in the poor man's garden grow far more than herbs and flowers -- kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind, and joy for weary hours.
The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them.
A pessimist sees a glass that's half empty. An optimist sees a glass that's half full.
I define love thus: the will to extend oneself for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth.
Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.
Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.
If you doubt you can accomplish something, then you can't accomplish it. You have to have confidence in your ability, and then be tough enough to follow through.
No man is wise enough by himself.
Treasure the love you receive above all. It will survive long after your gold and good health have vanished.
Actions speak louder than words.
I hear an almost inaudible but pervasive discontent with the price we pay for our current materialism. And I hear a fluttering of hope that there might be more to life than bread and circuses.
In the long run, you hit only what you aim at. Therefore, though you should fail immediately, you had better aim atsomething high.
Fear not that thy life shall come to an end, but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning.
None so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm.
Man cannot discover new oceans until he has courage to lose sight of the shore.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.
Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events ... it is from numberless acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped.
The past exists only in memory, consequences, effects. It has power over me only as I give it my power. I can letgo, release it, move freely, I am not my past.
Habit is a great deadener.
I believe in God and in nature and in the triumph of good over evil.
Kindness is a language which the blind can see and the deaf can hear.
No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself. (Islam)
Let him that would move the world first move himself.
The light of friendship is like the light of phosphorus, even plainest when all around is dark.

Poems/Prose (click to search)

Master of human destinies am I! Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait. Cities and fields I walk; I penetrate Deserts and seas remote, and passing by Hovel and mart, and palace -- soon or late I knock unbidden once at every gate! If sleeping, wake -- if feasting, rise before I turn away. It is the hour of fate, And they who follow me reach every state Mortals desire, and conquer every foe Save death; but those who doubt or hesitate, Condemned to failure, penury and woe, Seek me in vain and uselessly implore. I answer not, and I return no more.
It isn't the thing you do, dear, It's the thing you leave undone That gives you a bit of a heartache At setting of the sun. The tender word forgotten, The letter you did not write, The flowers you did not send, dear, Are your haunting ghosts at night. The stone you might have lifted Out of a brother's way; The bit of heartsome counsel You were hurried too much to say; The loving touch of the hand, dear, The gentle, winning tone Which you had no time nor thought for With troubles enough of your own. Those little acts of kindness So easily out of mind, Those chances to be angels Which we poor mortals find -- They come in night and silence, Each sad, reproachful wraith, When hope is faint and flagging, And a chill has fallen on faith. For life is all too short, dear, And sorrow is all too great, To suffer our slow compassion That tarries until too late; And it isn't the thing you do, dear, It's the thing you leave undone Which gives you a bit of a heartache At the setting of the sun.
Success is speaking words of praise, In cheering other people's ways, In doing just the best you can, With every task and every plan, It's silence when your speech would hurt, Politeness when your neighbor's curt, It's deafness when the scandal flows, And sympathy with others' woes, It's loyalty when duty calls, It's courage when disaster falls, It's patience when the hours are long, It's found in laughter and in song, It's in the silent time of prayer, In happiness and in despair, In all of life and nothing less, We find the thing we call success..
Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.
To touch the cup with eager lips and taste, not drain it; To woo and tempt and court a bliss -- and not attain it; To fondle and caress a joy, yet hold it lightly, Lest it become necessity and cling too tightly; To watch the sun set in the west without regretting; To hail its advent in the east -- the night forgetting; To smother care in happiness and grief in laughter; To hold the present close -- not questioning hereafter; To have enough to share -- to know the joy of giving; To thrill with all the sweets of life -- is living.
There was once a pendulum waiting to be fixed on a new clock. It began to calculate how long it would be before the big wheels were worn out and its work was done. It would be expected to tick night and day, so many times a minute, sixty times that every hour, and twenty-four times that every day and three hundred and sixty-five times that every year. It was awful! quite a row of figures, enough to stagger you! Millions of ticks! "I can never do it," said the poor pendulum. But the clockmaster encouraged it. "You can do one tick at a time?" he said. "Oh, yes," the pendulum could do that. "Well," he said, "that is all that will be required of you." So the pendulum went to work, steadily ticking, one tick at a time, and it is ticking yet, quite cheerfully.
I would rather go to the forest, far away, and build me a little cabin -- build it myself -- and daub it with clay, and live there with my wife and children; and have a winding path leading down to the spring where the water bubbles out, day and night, whispering a poem to the white pebbles, from the heart of the earth; a little hut with some hollyhocks at the corner, with their bannered bosoms open to the sun, and a thrush in the air like a winged joy -- I would rather live there and have some lattice work across the window so that the sun-light would fall checkered on the babe in the cradle -- I would rather live there, with my soul erect and free, than in a palace of gold, and wear a crown of imperial power, and feel that I was superstition's cringing slave, and dare not speak my honest thought.
Time is Too slow for those who wait, Too swift for those who Fear, Too long for those who Grieve, Too short for those who Rejoice; But for those who Love Time is Eternity.
I hold no dream of fortune vast, Nor seek undying fame. I do not ask when life is past That many know my name. I may not own the skill to rise To glory's topmost height, Nor win a place among the wise, But I can keep the right. And I can live my life on earth Contented to the end, If but a few shall know my worth And proudly call me friend.
True worth is in being, not seeming, -- In doing, each day that goes by, Some little good - not in dreaming Of great things to do by and by. For whatever men say in their blindness, And spite of the fancies of youth, There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth. We get back our mete as we measure-- We cannot do wrong and feel right, Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure, For justice avenges each slight. The air for the wing of the sparrow, The bush for the robin and wren, But always the path that is narrow And straight, for the children of men. 'Tis not in the pages of story The heart of its ills to beguile, Though he who makes courtship to glory Gives all that he hath for her smile. For when from her heights he has won her, Alas! it is only to prove That nothing's so sacred as honor, And nothing so loyal as love! We cannot make bargains for blisses, Nor catch them like fishes in nets; And sometimes the thing our life misses Helps more than the thing which it gets. For good lieth not in pursuing, Nor gaining of great nor of small, But just in the doing, and doing As we would be done by, is all. Through envy, through malice, through hating, Against the world, early and late, No jot of our courage abating -- Our part is to work and to wait. And slight is the sting of his trouble Whose winnings are less than his worth; For he who is honest in noble, Whatever his fortunes of birth.
According to the theory of aerodynamics and as may be readily demonstrated through wind tunnel experiments, the bumblebee is unable to fly. This is because the weight, size and shape of his body in relation to the total wingspread makes flying impossible.
If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be. -Thomas Jefferson, 1816
There's a comforting thought at the close of the day, When I'm weary and lonely and sad, That sort of grips hold of my crusty old heart And bids it be merry and glad. It gets in my soul and it drives out the blues, And finally thrills through and through. It is just a sweet memory that chants the refrain: "I'm glad I touch shoulders with you!" Did you know you were brave, did you know you were strong? Did you know there was one leaning hard? Did you know that I waited and listened and prayed, And was cheered by your simplest word? Did you know that I longed for that smile on your face, For the sound of your voice ringing true? Did you know I grew stronger and better because I had merely touched shoulders with you? I am glad that I live, that I battle and strive For the place that I know I must fill; I am thankful for sorrows, I'll meet with a grin What fortune may send, good or ill. I may not have wealth, I may not be great, But I know I shall always be true, For I have in my life that courage you gave When once I rubbed shoulders with you.
Wouldn't this old world be better If the folks we meet would say -- "I know something good about you!" And treat us just that way? Wouldn't it be fine and dandy If each handclasp, fond and true, Carried with it this assurance -- "I know something good about you!" Wouldn't life be lots more happy If the good that's in us all Were the only thing about us That folks bothered to recall? Wouldn't life be lots more happy If we praised the good we see? For there's such a lot of goodness In the worst of you and me! Wouldn't it be nice to practise That fine way of thinking, too? You know something good about me, I know something good about you?
If a task is once begun Never leave it till it's done. Be the labor great or small, Do it well or not at all.