#at

By changing nothing, nothing changes. ↗

— Tony Robbins

#inspirational #change

The best people renounce all for one goal, the eternal fame of mortals; but most people stuff themselves like cattle. ↗

— Heraclitus

#cattle #eternal #fame #goal #like

Be your own independent film channel. ↗

— Art Hochberg

#inspirational #art

Chess is everything: art, science, and sport. ↗

— Anatoly Karpov

#chess #art

When people have told me that because I am a Catholic, I cannot be an artist, I have had to reply, ruefully, that because I am a Catholic I cannot afford to be less than an artist. ↗

— Flannery O'Connor

#artist #catholic #writers #art

When we drug ourselves to blot out our soul's call, we are being good Americans and exemplary consumers. ↗

— Steven Pressfield

#art #consumerism #creativity #destiny #soul

To live a life of gratitude is to open our eyes to the countless ways in which we are supported by the world around us. ↗

— Gregg Krech

#art

Open your eyes and see how many gifts there are to unwrap. Notice the presence of your presents. It’s not your life that is disappointing: it’s your mind. ↗

— Gregg Krech

#mindset #art

Three days a week she helped at the Manor Nursing Home, where people proved their keenness by reciting received analyses of current events. All the Manor residents watched television day and night, informed to the eyeballs like everyone else and rushed for time, toward what end no one asked. Their cupidity and self-love were no worse than anyone else's, but their many experiences' having taught them so little irked Lou. One hated tourists, another southerners; another despised immigrants. Even dying, they still held themselves in highest regard. Lou would have to watch herself. For this way of thinking began to look like human nature--as if each person of two or three billion would spend his last vital drop to sustain his self-importance. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#human-nature #age

Mi-a povestit, mie, ca unui mare, frica lui. A zis că pe-acolo pe unde fusese dus, în Rusia, în lagăr, pe front, din nou în lagăr în România, ca prizonier, apoi cu refugiul şi bombardamentele, cunoscuse frica. Dar era numai frica lui. Că frica de moartea ta nu e cu adevărat frică - tot nu depinde de tine moartea ori nemoartea ta. Frica cea mare, adevărată, a zis tata, e cea pentru alţii: nevastă, copii. Ştii că de tine a depins să-i fereşti de pericol şi n-ai făcut-o. Frica cea mare nu e moartea ta, e viaţa pe care or s-o îndure ai tăi, din pricina ta. ↗

— Paul Goma

#tata #art