Quote by Allan Rufus

Life is like a sandwich!Birth as one slice,and death as the other.What you put in-between the slices is up to you.Is your sandwich tasty or sour?Allan Rufus.org


Life is like a sandwich!Birth as one slice,and death as the

Summary

This quote by Allan Rufus uses the metaphor of a sandwich to describe life. The beginning of life is depicted as one slice, while the end represents death. What determines the overall quality of life is what we fill it with, symbolized by the ingredients between the slices. It challenges us to reflect upon the choices, experiences, and actions we add to our lives, which will ultimately determine if our journey is fulfilling and enjoyable (tasty) or negative and unfulfilling (sour). Ultimately, it reminds us that we have the power to shape the course of our lives.

By Allan Rufus
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From Les Miserables:All at once, in the midst of this profound calm, a fresh sound arose; a sound as celestial, divine, ineffable, ravishing, as the other had been horrible. It was a hymn which issued from the gloom, a dazzling burst of prayer and harmony in the obscure and alarming silence of the night; women's voices, but voices composed at one and the same time of the pure accents of virgins and the innocent accent of children, -- voices which are not of the earth, and which resemble those that the newborn infant still hears, and which the dying man hears already. This song proceeded from the gloomy edifice which towered above the garden. At the moment when the hubbub of demons retreated, one would have said that a choir of angels was approaching through the gloom.Cosette and Jean Valjean fell on their knees.They knew not what it was, they knew not where they were; but both of them, the man and the child, the penitent and the innocent, felt that they must kneel.These voices had this strange characteristic, that they did not prevent the building from seeming to be deserted. It was a supernatural chant in an uninhabited house. While these voices were singing, Jean Valjean thought of nothing. He no longer beheld the night; he beheld a blue sky. It seemed to him that he felt those wings which we all have within us, unfolding.The song died away. It may have lasted a long time. Jean Valjean could not have told. Hours of ecstasy are never more than a moment.

Victor Hugo