#mm

The control of the production of wealth is the control of human life itself. ↗

— Hilaire Belloc

#life

When Europeans arrived on this continent, they blew it with the Native Americans. They plowed over them, taking as much as they could of their land and valuables, and respecting almost nothing about the native cultures. They lost the wisdom of the indigenous peoples-wisdom about the land and connectedness to the great web of life…We have another chance with all these refugees. People come here penniless but not cultureless. They bring us gifts. We can synthesize the best of our traditions with the best of theirs. We can teach and learn from each other to produce a better America… ↗

— Mary Pipher

#inclusion #refugees #life

It's summer and time for wandering... ↗

— Kellie Elmore

#memories #southern #summer #youth #life

...summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows... ↗

— John Geddes

#face #lines #softens #summer #winter

Mister MacKeltar," Drustan corrected for the umpteenth time, with a this-is-really-wearing-thin-but-I'm-determined-to-be-patient smile. No matter how many times he told Farley that he was not a laird, that he was simply Mr. MacKeltar, that it was Christopher (his modern-day descendant who lived up the road in the oldest castle on the land) who was actually laird, Farley refused to hear it. The eighty-something-year-old butler, who insisted he was sixty-two and who had obviously never before buttled in his life until the day he'd arrived on their doorstep, was determined to be a butler to a lord. Period. And he wasn't about to let Drustan interfere with that aspiration. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#farley #karen-marie-moning #the-immortal-highlander #life

Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing. ↗

— Truman Capote

#city #description #human #life #summer

There was a time when the Bengali language was an angry flood trying to break down her door. She would crawl into a closet and lock herself in, stuffing her ears to shut out those sounds. But a door was no defense against her parents' voices: it was in that language that they fought, and the sounds of their quarrels would always find ways of trickling in under the door and thorugh the cracks, the level rising until she thought she would drown in the flood...The accumulated resentsmnets of their life were always phrased in the language, so that for her its sound had come to represent the music of unhappiness. ↗

— Amitav Ghosh

#life

The people feel and look the same, like they've settled here even though they know there's something more-something better-just beyond where they are. Small-town life. ↗

— Courtney Summers

#courtney-summers #fall-for-anything #life #small-town #life

Love is a vessel that contains both security and adventure, and commitment offers one of the great luxuries of life: time. Marriage is not the end of romance, it is the beginning. ↗

— Esther Perel

#love #marriage #marriage-advice #romance #time

All of us, each and every one, lives a life that is, in its own right, an epic. ↗

— Richard Hammond

#life #my-story #on-the-edge #richard-hammond #life