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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #dre
Every star was once darker than the night, before it awoke. ↗
#literature #literature-quotes #night #poetry #poetry-quotes
I loved Enso Roshi’s teachings. I loved learning about life. I loved life. It was a good thing to feel. I loved life, and I loved learning, and I was still learning. I was not, yet, done. At the end of our journeys, there would be an end to the journey. Maybe. If I was lucky. If providence shone down upon me gently. I would find love. I would find acceptance. Complete love. Complete acceptance. I would know, that the self, is an illusion. I would come to enlightenment, but that would also mean, there would be no ‘I’ there. I would realize that the ‘I’ was an illusion, all along, just like some great dream. This is what the wise sages say, the great teachings, the mystical teachings, not only from the East, but also from the West. The Gospel of Saint Thomas. Thomas Merton. Thomas, like I was Thomas, and also doubting, the main reasons I’d chosen the name. If nothing else, it was lovable, just as it is. My life. Even the parts I didn’t love, could I love them? The struggles. It was all part of the journey, and would I not look back fondly on this, at some time? Look at how arduous and sincere I’d been. Look at how worried I’d been. Look at how insecure I’d been. Look at how I’d struggled. Trying to find my way. Would I not look back upon myself, affectionately and fondly and with love? ↗
To sense the peace of extinguished passion Happiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge ↗
#happiness #knowing #knowledge #literature #literature-quotes
To come to nothing through something is the way to outside from both sides. ↗
#dejan-stojanovic #literature #literature-quotes #nothing #outside
If emptiness is empty, how can something be borne or awaken from it? ↗
#dejan-stojanovic #emptiness #empty #literature #literature-quotes
Ann Boleyn...a Renaissance Audrey Hepburn in a little black dress. ↗
#audrey-hepburn #historical-fiction #tudors #women-s-humor #historical-fiction
He props his elbow on the table, absently scratches his temple with his index finger, and I remember exactly what that index finger did to me earlier. How he circled my nipples with that finger, how he slipped it between my legs, drenched it with my wetness and then brought it up to his mouth, licking it, tasting me, his gaze never leaving mine… ↗
Las verdaderas penas, esas que te cambian la vida, nunca desaparecen completamente por más que pretendas ignorarlas. Siempre se quedan contigo como una reuma constante que te ataca sin piedad cuando hace frío o llueve ↗
