#river

Most of the contract people at MGM stayed and stayed and stayed. Why? Because the studio looked after them. Warner Brothers wouldn't - they were always spanking somebody or selling them down the river. ↗

— Ann Rutherford

#always #because #brothers #contract #down

Was I involved in selling drivers licenses to people illegally? Hell no I wasn't. Would I have tolerated it? Hell no. ↗

— George Ryan

#hell #i #illegally #involved #licenses

I am in love, and the river is beginning to ice over. I’d better go drown myself before I freeze to death.
 ↗

— Dark Jar Tin Zoo

#death #drown #freeze #freezing #funny

I decided to write the book I wanted to read ↗

— David A. Lottes

#coming-of-age-stories #french-in-north-america #frontier-and-pioneer-life #historical-fiction #native-americans

The Lush hadn’t driven in almost a decade - ever since she got in an accident that shook her so badly she refused to get behind the wheel. As you can imagine, someone nicknamed The Lush wouldn’t make a good DD anyway. I’d known her about a year before ever seeing her sober. ↗

— Kate Madison

#humor #memoir #the-lush #design

Freedom comes when you see the built-in contradiction of trying to manipulate something that is going right to begin with.... Stop trying to steer the river. ↗

— Deepak Chopra

#river-surrender #freedom

The test of man then is not, 'How have I believed?' but 'How have I loved?'. The final test of religion is not religiousness, but love: not what I have done, not what I have believed, not what I have achieved, but how I have discharged the common charities of life. Sins of commission in that awful indictment are not even referred to. By what we have not done, by sins of omission, we are judged. It could not be otherwise. For the withholding of love is the negation of the Spirit of Christ, the proof that we never knew Him, that for us He lived in vain. Pastor Henry Drummond, 1890 ↗

— Paulo Coelho

#life

He watched the early light of the new moon glint fretfully on the river, now silver slivers, now darkness, as the night breeze stirred the choked growth on the banks and lifted the tree branches. The watersteps were a deserted invitation, and he envied Hori who must surely even now be reclining on the bottom of his skiff, Antef beside him, their fishing lines tied to the boat whilst they watched the stars and gossiped. His fountain tinkled like music in the darkness, and the monkeys sighed and snuffled in their favourite warm spot under the stone basin, which still held the warmth of the day’s heat. ↗

— Pauline Gedge

#music

The river is one of my favorite metaphors, the symbol of the great flow of Life Itself. The river begins at Source, and returns to Source, unerringly. This happens every single time, without exception. We are no different. ↗

— Jeffrey R. Anderson

#flow #nature #river #source #the-flow-of-life

More and more, paddling the Yellowstone feels like that bedside visit, like we are attending to a friend in dire straits, a friend whom we have seen in the full bloom of health, but with whom, now, there is little to say and only our companionship to offer. ↗

— Alan S. Kesselheim

#nature #rivers #nature