#river

All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full. ↗

— King Solomon

#into #rivers #run #sea #yet

When there is an accident involving fire, in most cases death is caused by the inhalation of the toxic smoke. What we need is air to go to a driver for 45 seconds. I'm surprised that this is not done, and I would make it compulsory. ↗

— Jackie Stewart

#air #cases #caused #compulsory #death

From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. ↗

— Algernon Charles Swinburne

#brief #dead #even #ever #fear

A man's country is not a certain area of land, of mountains, rivers, and woods, but it is a principle and patriotism is loyalty to that principle. ↗

— George William Curtis

#area #certain #country #land #loyalty

I've never seen myself as a 'girl driver.' I'm just a driver. ↗

— Danica Patrick

#girl #i #just #myself #never

The place where I had so much success as a driver would be where I had my first win as a team owner. ↗

— Bobby Rahal

#first #had #i #much #owner

So never give in,” continued the girl, and restated again and again the vague yet convincing plea that the Invisible lodges against the Visible. Her excitement grew as she tried to cut the rope that fastened Leonard to the earth. Woven of bitter experience, it resisted her. Presently the waitress entered and gave her a letter from Margaret. Another note, addressed to Leonard, was inside. They read them, listening to the murmurings of the river. ↗

— E.M. Forster

#letter #resistance #river #water #experience

What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness, Anger, discontent and drooping hopes? Degenerate sons and daughters, Life is too strong for you— It takes life to love Life. ↗

— Edgar Lee Masters

#spoon-river-anthology #anger

The time for change had come, and it wasn’t until that moment that the Lady remembered, even answers had their own clock. ↗

— Erin Cole

#change

The savage rushing of the river seemed to be inside her head, inside her body. Even when the oarswomen, their guides, were speaking to her, she had the impression she couldn't quite hear them because of the roar. Not of the river that did indeed roar, just behind them, close to the simple shelter they'd made for her, but because of an internal roar as of the sound of a massive accumulation of words, spoken all at once, but collected over a lifetime, now trying to leave her body. As they rose to her lips, and in response to the question: Do you want to go home? she leaned over a patch of yellow grass near her elbow and threw up. All the words from decades of her life filled her throat. Words she had said or had imagined saying or had swallowed before saying to her father, dead these many years. All the words to her mother. To her husbands. Children. Lovers. The words shouted back at the television set, spreading its virus of mental confusion. Once begun, the retching went on and on. She would stop, gasping for breath, rest a minute, and be off again. Draining her body of precious fluid... Soon, exhausted, she was done. No, she had said weakly, I don't want to go home. I'll be all right now. ↗

— Alice Walker

#river #words #home