#sag

If we long for our planet to be important, there is something we can do about it. We make our world significant by the courage of our questions and by the depth of our answers. ↗

— Carl Sagan

#sagan #science #courage

Mon Dieu donne-moi la sérénité d’accepter toutes les choses que je ne peux changer. Donne-moi le courage de changer les choses que je peux changer et la sagesse d’en connaître la différence. ↗

— Moines du moyen âge

#sagesse #courage

Knowing you are alive is watching on every side your generation's short time falling away as fast as rivers drop through air, and feeling it hit. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#death #life #passage #time #death

Знаеш вече как да се смееш на смъртта, Арута - каза Амос. - Никога повече няма да си същият. ↗

— Raymond E. Feist

#aruta #bulgaria #bulgarian #death #feist

I was ten when I heard the music that ended the first phase of my life and cast me hurtling into a new horizon. Drenched to the skin, I stood on Dunoon’s pier peering seawards through diagonal rain, looking for the ferry that would take me home. There, on the everwet west coast of Scotland, I heard it: like sonic scalpels, the sounds of electric guitars sliced through the dreich weather. My body hairs pricked up, each one a willing receiver for the Thunder-God grooves. To my young ears, the sound of these amplified guitars was angelic (although, with hindsight, I don’t suppose angels play Gibson guitars at ear-bleeding volume). A voice that suggested vocal chords of polished silver soared alongside razor-sharp overdriven riffs. I knew that I was hearing the future. ↗

— Mark Rice

#heavy-metal #mark-rice #metallic-dreams #rite-of-passage #rock-music

She stayed beside me until I slept, waveringly, brilliantly, hooded in diaphanous scarlet, and occasionally she left an imperative written in lipstick on my dusty windowpane. BE AMOROUS! she exhorted one night and, another night, BE MYSTERIOUS! Some nights later, she scribbled: WHEN YOU BEGIN TO THINK, YOU LOSE THE POINT. ↗

— Angela Carter

#desire #dreams #lipstick #messages #mirrors

He’d moved toward me again. His hands released mine and moved to my waist, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one breathing heavily. He pulled me to him, bringing our bodies together. The world was all heat and electricity, thick with tension that was only one spark away from exploding around us. I was balancing on another precipice, which wasn’t easy to do in heels. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#baaabies #kissing #making-out #sydney-sage #balance

It doesn't matter. Take Eddie's blood. Take Belikov's blood. Take your own for all I care. But If she doesn't want to give hers, then that's all there is to it. She said no. This conversation is done. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#blood

I was human goodness in the world, she thought - all caught up with desires and dreams, regrets and bitterness, resentment and powers, but it was there. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#dreams

More recently, books, especially paperbacks, have been printed in massive and inexpensive editions. For the price of a modest meal you can ponder the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, the origin of species, the interpretation of dreams, the nature of things. Books are like seeds. They can lie dormant for centuries and then flower in the most unpromising soil. ↗

— Carl Sagan

#carl #sagan #science #seeds #dreams