#arm

Now about those ghosts. I'm sure they're here and I'm not half so alarmed at meeting up with any of them as I am at having to meet the live nuts I have to see every day. ↗

— Bess Truman

#alarmed #am #any #day #every

Proportion is that agreeable harmony between the several parts of a building, which is the result of a just and regular agreement of them with each other; the height to the width, this to the length, and each of these to the whole. ↗

— Marcus V. Pollio

#agreement #between #building #each #harmony

If thou art master to thyself, circumstances shall harm thee little. ↗

— Martin Farquhar Tupper

#circumstances #harm #little #master #shall

I'm always writing, even when I'm not at my desk. I write on my hands. I used to write on my kids' hands, too, but they don't let me any more. When I'm driving I sometimes write all the way up my arms. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#any #arms #desk #driving #even

I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him. ↗

— Dawn Powell

#bed #beds #close #dear #drawn

The army is under orders to defend every place. ↗

— Helmut Kohl

#defend #every #orders #place #under

I knew some of the army quite well. ↗

— Aung San Suu Kyi

#i #knew #quite #some #well

It sounds strange, somewhat on the line between irony and absurdity, to think that people would rather label and judge something as significant as each other but completely bypass a peanut. ... World peace is only a dream because people won't allow themselves and others around them to simply be peanuts. We won't allow the color of a man's heart to be the color of his skin, the premise of his beliefs, and his self-worth. We won't allow him to be a peanut, therefore we won't allow ourselves to come to live in harmony. (Diary 18) ↗

— Erin Gruwell

#judging #labeling #world-peace #dreams

Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without. ↗

— Thomas de Quincey

#tea #warmth #winter #english

‎A farm is a manipulative creature. There is no such thing as finished. Work comes in a stream and has no end. There are only the things that must be done now and things that can be done later. The threat the farm has got on you, the one that keeps you running from can until can't, is this: do it now, or some living thing will wilt or suffer or die. Its blackmail, really. ↗

— Kristin Kimball

#food