#rum

That's why when major bad-asses greet each other in movies, they don't say anything, they just nod. The nod means, 'I' am a bad-ass, and I recognize that you, too, are a bad-ass,' but they don't say anything because they're Wolverine and Magneto and it would mess up their vibe to explain. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#movies

That why when major badasses greet each other in movies that don't say anything, they just nod. The nod mesns, 'I'm a badass, and I recognise that you, too, are a badass,' BUt they don't say anything to explain because they're Wolverine and Magneto and it would mess up their vibe to explain ↗

— Cassandra Clare The Mortal Instruments

#city-of-bones #magneto #mortal-instruments #simon-lewis #tmi

The true mission of the violin is to imitate the accents of the human voice, a noble mission that has earned for the violin the glory of being called the king of instruments ↗

— Charles-Auguste de Beriot

#instrument #king #music #violin #music

I want to drum up interest for instruments that are played by beating them with sticks. 
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#appealing #awareness #drum #instruments #interest

Scattered among these things are reminders that sound once existed: a metronome, a drumming pad, a guitar pick, a trumpet mouthpiece, a music stand, a tuning fork, a block of rosin...The older instruments bear the marks of those who have already played them, the scuffs and bites and dents that are the mysterious scars of sound. In their midst the house hangs, tenuous and enveloping, a sounding board waiting to be struck. ↗

— Geoffrey O'Brien

#instruments #mark #music #mystery #music

We are not native. We have no generations of Americans behind us. We have roots elsewhere. We are looking in from the outside. To me, that seems to be perfectly natural. ↗

— Don DeLillo

#americans #paul-auster #philip-roth #robert-mccrum #nature

WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK? ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#kissed #magnus-bane #mortal-instruments #magnus-bane

Rumors had their own classic epidemiology. Each started with a single germinating event. Information spread from that point, mutating and interbreeding— a conical mass of threads, expanding into the future from the apex of their common birthplace. Eventually, of course, they'd wither and die; the cone would simply dissipate at its wide end, its permutations senescent and exhausted. There were exceptions, of course. Every now and then a single thread persisted, grew thick and gnarled and unkillable: conspiracy theories and urban legends, the hooks embedded in popular songs, the comforting Easter-bunny lies of religious doctrine. These were the memes: viral concepts, infections of conscious thought. Some flared and died like mayflies. Others lasted a thousand years or more, tricked billions into the endless propagation of parasitic half-truths. ↗

— Peter Watts

#pith #religion #rumor-cycles #snark #urban-legends

A bit like religion, lots of rumor but no real proof that it existed. ↗

— Bethany Knox

#religion #rumor #religion

My thoughts are free to roam back to the way she leaned her head on my arm for a split second, as if wishing she could let herself go, let herself lean farther. But she didn't, and I can’t help but respect her for that, even I know her strength is false, propped up by the shaky girders of Old Man Jack. One day soon, those girders will collapse, and her world will crumble, and I know I have to be there when that happens. ↗

— Jasinda Wilder

#colton #crumble #falling #falling-into-you #free