#places

The reason that I keep writing is that all my most powerful messages about the fates of wild places that I care about need to have words as well as images. ↗

— Galen Rowell

#care #fates #i #i care #images

The two things that could have been better is number one, to get major military force into the community almost immediately to make sure that there was law and order. Number two, we had enough helicopters to airlift food into the centers of population and those places. ↗

— Warren Rudman

#been #better #centers #community #could

In Rome there is a pathological shortage of small coins. For change, the little shops tend to use candy. ↗

— Dorothy Dunnett

#places #change

...The heart mourns people and places and returns to them in dreams... ↗

— John Geddes

#mourning #people-and-places #dreams

At first he didn't know where he was, whose voice it was. He must have been asleep. And waking suddenly, like that, you woke in a thousand different places that you'd never been. ↗

— Rupert Thomson

#dreams #wake #dreams

Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable. ↗

— Arthur Conan Doyle

#chains-of-events #commonplaces-of-existence #cross-purposes #fiction #on-fiction

He tucks his hands on the back of my head and rests his mouth on my forehead. I close my eyes. “I could stand here forever,” he says. “In this place? This oh-so-classy motel room?” “That’s the thing. It don’t matter where. ↗

— Kristin Halbrook

#places #romance #love

New York may end up being no more than a scrim, a spectral film that is none other than our craving for romance—romance with life, with masonry, with memory, sometimes romance with nothing at all. This longing goes out to the city and from the city comes back to us. Call it narcissism. Or call it passion. It has its flare-ups, its cold nights, its sudden lurches, and its embraces. It is our life finally revealed to us in the most lifeless hard objects we'll ever cast eyes on: concrete, steel, stonework. Our need for intimacy and love is so powerful that we'll look for them and find them in asphalt and soot. ↗

— André Aciman

#life

I drove out of Dartmouth and after a while Start Bay emerged out of the brightening gloom like the end of a set of parentheses in a book about the natural world. Inside the parentheses was a story about the sea. Outside them, the land: green, red and brown fields, and hills curling over the landscape. I saw small, delicate clumps of snowdrops, big rough patches of gorse, and along the thin road, houses with yellow roses and mimosa growing in their gardens. ↗

— Scarlett Thomas

#nature

The time has come to end the suffering and the plight of millions of Palestine refugees in the homeland and the Diaspora, to end their displacement and to realize their rights, some of them forced to take refuge more than once in different places of the world. ↗

— Mahmoud Abbas

#different #different places #displacement #end #forced