#lego

A Mixed-breed Apple" A little mixed-breed apple, half red, half yellow, tells this story. A lover and beloved get separated. Their being apart was one thing, but they have opposite responses. The lover feels pain and grows pale. The beloved flushes and feels proud. I am a thorn next to my master's rose. We seem to be two, but we are not. ↗

— Rumi

#love #love

Explore. Train your conscious mind and your subconscious mind to start working for you by getting those great powers to move in a new direction. Start creating your own good luck today. ↗

— Steve Backley

#inspirational #life-changing #mind-body-spirit #motivational #new-thought

Lucky people will focus on what’s in front of them rather than scrabbling about for what they’re searching for. ↗

— Steve Backley

#inspirational #life-changing #mind-body-spirit #motivational #new-thought

Farewell, I wish our souls may meet with comfort at the journey's end."- The Heavenly Footman: A Puritan's View of How to Get to Heaven. ↗

— John Bunyan

#inspirational

When you kill somebody in the movies, it matters, whereas in literature it can be allegorical. ↗

— Barbet Schroeder

#kill #literature #matters #movies #somebody

Love isn’t stackable and interlocking, like boxes or Legos. Love is like a one-legged man standing on a three-legged chair that is placed on top of a two-legged piano. I should know, because I’m the guy trying to tune that piano, fix that chair, and affix a prosthetic leg to that guy—who happens to be my piano teacher. Mr. Balloonky, you get down from there now!
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#fix #furniture #interlocking #lego #legos

I follow suit, said the lion, vacating his coat of arms and movie logos; and the eagle said, Get me off this flag. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#animals #humans #morals #parable #movies

Irony is the kid who steals music and is stolen by the music. ↗

— MEDVGNO

#epic-poetry #film-script #philosophical #music

Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery. ↗

— Cormac McCarthy

#brooks #creation #destruction #earth #environment

I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations... ↗

— J.R.R. Tolkien

#manifestation