Peco desculpas pela mensagem abaixo, que foi enviada por engano para a nossa lista.
Um Abraco a Todos Paulo Santa Rita 2,1050,291104
From: "Paulo Santa Rita" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Reply-To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: [EMAIL PROTECTED], [EMAIL PROTECTED] Subject: [obm-l] RE: If ... de Rudyard Kipling Date: Mon, 29 Nov 2004 12:11:03 +0000 Hi my friend,
I already knew this poetry of Kipling and I admit that admire her a lot. In this matter, I am basically convinced of two things:
1) the moral values exist independent of any practices private religious person and they constitute a foundation only, true, in spite of they be noticed by the countless religions standard that we knew.
2) the access the those values are an experience subjective, real, impossible of being formalized and made official under any hypothesis.
Best Regards Paulo Santa Rita 2,1000,291104
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to,broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, ' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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