#ace

He who is not generous(loving,benevolent),God is not generous(loving,benevolent) to him. ↗

— Anonymous

#beautiful #benevolent #culture #freedom #generous

If much in the world were mystery the limits of that world were not, for it was without measure or bound and there were contained within it creatures more horrible yet and men of other colors and beings which no man has looked upon and yet not alien none of it more than were their own hearts alien in them, whatever wilderness contained there and whatever beasts. ↗

— Cormac McCarthy

#atavism #race #men

Routine and predictable days are the breeding grounds for complacency. ↗

— Wayde Goodall

#predictabiltiy #routine #men

The sun's champagne streamed from one body into another. And there was a couple on the green silk of the grass, covered by a raspberry umbrella. Only their feet and a little bit of lace could be seen. In the magnificent universe beneath the raspberry umbrella, with closed eyes, they drank in the sparkling madness. 'Extra! Extra! Zeppelins over the North Sea at 3 o'clock.' But under the umbrella, in the raspberry universe, they were immortal. What did it matter that in another far-away universe people would be killing each other? ↗

— Yevgeny Zamyatin

#lovers #park #war #men

We are too young to realize that certain things are impossible... So we will do them anyway. ↗

— William Wilberforce

#movie #movies

Someday, men will visit ideas instead of places. ↗

— Toba Beta

#places #visit #men

When Trace simply held her hands out to her sides and looked at her, Priss asked, "Are we going to have sex now?" His mouth twitched, and his gaze warmed, but he sounded dead serious when he said, "Yeah, I think we are. ↗

— Lori Foster

#trace #men

I love London. I love everything about it. I love its palaces and its museums and its galleries, sure. But also, I love its filth, and damp, and stink. Okay, well, I don’t mean love, exactly. But I don’t mind it. Not any more. Not now I’m used to it. You don’t mind anything once you’re used to it. Not the graffiti you find on your door the week after you painted over it, or the chicken bones and cider cans you have to move before you can sit down for your damp and muddy picnic. Not the everchanging fast food joints – AbraKebabra to Pizza the Action to Really Fried Chicken – and all on a high street that despite its three new names a week never seems to look any different. Its tawdriness can be comforting, its wilfulness inspiring. It’s the London I see every day. I mean, tourists: they see the Dorchester. They see Harrods, and they see men in bearskins and Carnaby Street. They very rarely see the Happy Shopper on the Mile End Road, or a drab Peckham disco. They head for Buckingham Palace, and see waving above it the red, white and blue, while the rest of us order dansak from the Tandoori Palace, and see Simply Red, White Lightning, and Duncan from Blue. But we should be proud of that, too. Or, at least, get used to it. ↗

— Danny Wallace

#danny-wallace #london #food

it is a higher glory... to stay war itself with a word, than to slay men with the sword, and to procure or maintain peace by peace, not by war. ↗

— Augustine of Hippo

#war #men

Davout looked up and gazed intently at him. For some seconds they looked at one another, and that look saved Pierre. Apart from conditions of war and law, that look established human relations between the two men. At that moment an immense number of things passed dimly through both their minds, and they realized that they were both children of humanity and were brothers. ↗

— Leo Tolstoy

#peace #war #men