#r

There is no beyond, there is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present. ↗

— Iris Murdoch

#death #life #religion #death

The first and foremost reality is that suffering and death are not only enemies of life, but a means of reminding us of life's twin realities, love and hate. ↗

— Ravi Zacharias

#jesus #death

Whenever you move, I think you lose your history. ↗

— Calista Flockhart

#i #i think #lose #move #think

Baseball was socially relevant, and so was my rebellion against it. ↗

— Curt Flood

#baseball #rebellion #relevant #socially

The problem, gentlemen, is that Obama is right: The promise of upward mobility is dying in America, and no amount of political demagoguery will fix it. ↗

— Ron Fournier

#amount #demagoguery #dying #fix #gentlemen

My wife is Jewish, and therefore, it's my children's birthright to be Jewish. ↗

— Michael J. Fox

#children #jewish #therefore #wife

I'd often wondered what would I do if I were ever traded, because it happened many, many times. ↗

— Curt Flood

#ever #happened #i #i do #many

I'm a child of the sixties, I'm a man of the sixties. During that period of time this country was coming apart at the seams. We were in Southeast Asia. Good men were dying for America and for the Constitution. ↗

— Curt Flood

#apart #asia #child #coming #constitution

If I felt that one of my operas did not come off I would certainly say so. ↗

— Carlisle Floyd

#come #did #felt #i #off

On No Work of Words On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody Belly of the rich year and the big purse of my body I bitterly take to task my poverty and craft: To take to give is all, return what is hungrily given Puffing the pounds of manna up through the dew to heaven, The lovely gift of the gab bangs back on a blind shaft. To lift to leave from the treasures of man is pleasing death That will rake at last all currencies of the marked breath And count the taken, forsaken mysteries in a bad dark. To surrender now is to pay the expensive ogre twice. Ancient woods of my blood, dash down to the nut of the seas If I take to burn or return this world which is each man's work. ↗

— Dylan Thomas

#poetry #reciprocity #writer-s-block #death