#moo

As a teacher of fourth-graders in a public school, where corporal punishement was not allowed, she had years of violence stored up and was, truth be told, sort of enjoying letting it out on Kona, who she felt could have been the poster child for the failure of public education. ↗

— Christopher Moore

#education #moore #violence #education

Hey! Guy with scary eyes?" Madison called out. "You know what a moose does when someone insults her family?" Ivan raised his eyebrows. "She does this." Madison crouched down and charged Ivan. Her head hit him in the stomach. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#madison-holt #moose #the #family

The moon, our own, earthly moon is bitterly lonely, because it is alone in the sky, always alone, and there is no one to turn to, no one to turn to it. All it can do is ache across the weightless airy ice, across thousands of versts, toward those who are equally lonely on earth, and listen to the endless howling of dogs. (“A Story About The Most Important Thing”) ↗

— Yevgeny Zamyatin

#equality

The word ‘equinox’ simply means ‘of equal length’ and refers to the twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness at this point in the year. It was originally thought to stem from two Latin words aequus meaning equal and nox meaning night. The word ‘Vernal’, as this equinox is often called, is derived from the Latin word vernus meaning ‘of spring’. ↗

— Carole Carlton

#carole-carlton #equinox #imbolc #irish-celts #lughnasadh

Who says you cannot hold the moon in your hand? Tonight when the stars come out and the moon rises in the velvet sky, look outside your window, then raise your hand and position your fingers around the disk of light. There you go . . . That was easy! ↗

— Vera Nazarian

#aim-high #attaining #disk #goal #goals

When we want mood experiences, we go to concerts or museums. When we want meaningful emotional experience, we go to the storyteller. ↗

— Robert McKee

#emotion #experience #mood #museums #story

I have seen him set fire to his wigwam and smooth over the graves of his fathers... clap his hand in silence over his mouth, and take the last look over his fair hunting ground, and turn his face in sadness to the setting sun. ↗

— George Catlin

#face #fair #fathers #fire #graves

Tape the sound of the moon fading at dawn. Give it to your mother to listen to when she's in sorrow. ↗

— Yoko Ono

#love #moonlight #family

George was full of hatred. Of his own weakness and stupidity, of his magic, of the stubbornness and the pride of Beatrice and Marit, and, last of all, hatred of Dr. Gharn, who had started it all. But the hatred swayed to pity. Then to hopelessness. Then back to anger. Every once in a great while, he felt a moment of peace, usually when he caught a glimpse of Beatrice and Marit together. He loved them both in different ways. But that could not be. He turned away, and the cycle began again. ↗

— Mette Ivie Harrison

#conflicting-emotions #despair #emotional-upheaval #hate #love

Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars. ↗

— E.E. Cummings

#moon #stars #sun #love