#now

Something is conscious of us. It listens as it plays upon the instruments that we are. It takes delight in the cacophony, an orchestration so grand it is far beyond our contemplation. It is masterful, elegant, swift, and awesome. It is the Song of the Universe—and more. It is our Composer, and one who loves beyond conditions, beyond the beyond. If the law of ‘as above, so below’ holds true, then we too are composers. We too sing songs that breathe shape into reality. But are we listening? Are we paying attention to the compositions we create? ↗

— Dielle Ciesco

#composition #song-of-the-universe #the-unknown-mother #love

An adamant silence overcomes you when cross paths with the person that kisses your heart the second that you meet them. It balances on the edge of an indefinable unknown, unconsciously desired. ↗

— Carl Henegan

#heart #love #silence #unknown #love

When love, that dandelion fluff, that always comes and goes with the first wind thread, will pass on to your door, then you will know you met me... ↗

— Octavian Paler

#you-will-know-you-met-me #love

People who know little are usually great talkers, while men who know much say little. ↗

— Jean-Jacques Rousseau

#know #little #men #much #people

In my youth, it was my good luck to have a few good teachers, men and women, who came into my head and lit a match. ↗

— Yann Martel

#men

The truth is like salt. Men want to taste a little, but too much makes everyone sick. ↗

— Joe Abercrombie

#knowledge #truth #men

As the Promethean fire which banished Darkness, so Knowledge bears the Power and the Light. ↗

— Leanna Renee Hieber

#knowledge #mythology #beauty

Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything. ↗

— Warren G. Harding

#exile #family #friends #friendship #full

in times like the present, men should utter nothing for which they would not willingly be responsible through time and eternity. ↗

— Abraham Lincoln

#knowledge #remaining-silent #wisdom #men

Liz looks at the tissue box, which is decorated with drawings of snowmen engaged in various holiday activities. One of the snowmen is happily placing a smiling rack of gingerbread men in an oven. Baking gingerbread men, or any cooking for that matter, is probably close to suicide for a snowman, Liz thinks. Why would a snowman voluntarily engage in an activity that would in all likelihood melt him? Can snowmen even eat? Liz glares at the box. ↗

— Gabrielle Zevin

#men