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The creative instincts, the love force must be nourished with every beat of our hearts until they overbalance the destructive instincts.

Gladys Taber

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Gladys Taber
Age: 80 †
Born: 1899
Born: April 12
Died: 1980
Died: March 11
Author
Writer
Colorado Springs
Colorado
Gladys Bagg Taber
Hearts
Creativity
Creative
Nourished
Force
Instincts
Must
Destructive
Heart
Beat
Every
Instinct
Love
Beats

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Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past.
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Old houses, I thought, do not belong to people ever, not really, people belong to them.
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We need time to dream, time to remember, and time to reach the infinite. Time to be.
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Being a good neighbor is an art which makes life richer.
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Happiness of heart can never be measured out and bundled up, it's intangible. We keep running after it, grasping for it, and the heat of our running so seldom brings it closer. But now and then there may be a moment. We look at something and know it is good and beautiful. Those moments are happiness.
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June in New England is like a lover's dream made tangible.
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Most cats feel that bird-catching is their duty the instinct goes back to prehistoric times. Amber keeps in practice by chasing moths.
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The curious thing about fishing is you never want to go home. If you catch something, you can't stop. If you don't catch anything, you hate to leave in case something might bite.
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Faith is a curious thing. It must be renewed it has its own spring.
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the real evidence of growing older is that things level off in importance ... Days are no longer jagged peaks to climb time is a meadow, and we move over it with level steps.
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There must be hundreds of unsung heroes and heroines who first tasted strange things growing - and think of the man who first ate a lobster. This staggers the imagination. I salute him every time I take my nutcracker in hand and move the melted-butter pipkin closer.
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If I had Aladdin's lamp and the usual three wishes, the first would always be, 'Give me the first day of June.
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The real evidence of growing older is that things level off in importance.
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Happiness is a thing of now.
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I cannot imagine a cat in an Obedience ring, running around in the hot sun and doing things on command. For it would not make sense. Whereas a dog is tolerant of your not making sense and only wants to fix things so you are happy.
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Father was the most unreconciled taxpayer I ever knew.
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History records the large events or the general condition of society, but only an individual can put down the way of life in a small town.
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Perhaps, after all, our best thoughts come when we are alone. It is good to listen, not to voices but to the wind blowing, to the brook running cool over polished stones, to bees drowsy with the weight of pollen. If we attend to the music of the earth, we reach serenity. And then, in some unexplained way, we share it with others.
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My own recipe for world peace is a bit of land for everyone.
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November wind has a sound different from any other. It is easy to imagine the cave of the winds in some mythical Northland where the winds are born and the gods send them out to conquer the quiet air.
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