If I had to live my life over again,
I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.

I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.

I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.

You see – I'm one of those people who live seriously and sanely hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I have my moments. And if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else, just moments one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute.

If I had to do it over again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had to live my life over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in autumn. I would go to more dances. I would ride more merry-go-rounds. I would pick more daisies.

attributed to NADINE STARR, aged 85


I, still, ♥ the views said...

actually, I travel pretty light already

and it's not a case of "next trip", it's a case of "now, start now! in the middle. . . and spread out. . ."


Mel said...


Love it.
Love the lady that handed it to you.

And like this one muchly.

More merry-go-rounds would be COOL.

(must make a trip to the park with the merry-go-round SOON!)

I, still, ♥ the views said...


Mel said...


That's what I need to find for the patio!


I, still, ♥ the views said...

well, if you wanna pick 'em, you gotta have some!

I love daisies in lawns personally, used to always want to be the daisy fairy when I was little. . . and then when I was a bit bigger I used to spend hours trying to work out whether he loved me or not, or if the daisy was just teasing me. . .

in the new courtyard there was a rather weedy dandelion, but the bulders trod on it

I figure it's got really strong roots and once they are gone, it'll be back - then I'll have dandelion clocks to blow. . .