#sent

We have seen that no religion stands on the basis of things known; none bounds its horizon within the field of human observation; and, therefore, as it can never present us with indisputable facts, so must it ever be at once a source of error and contention. ↗

— Francis Wright

#bounds #contention #error #ever #facts

The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope. ↗

— Frank Lloyd Wright

#ever #hope #lies #moving #present

Hence, wherever we meet with vital phenomena that present the two aspects, physical and psychical there naturally arises a question as to the relations in which these aspects stand to each other. ↗

— Wilhelm Wundt

#aspects #each #hence #meet #naturally

Thank you for the confidence put in my by the motherland and the people, for giving me this chance to represent China's millions of women by going into space. ↗

— Liu Yang

#china #confidence #giving #going #into

Life is too short for anger, resentment, hostility and "should have." It is too short to put off doing what brings you joy. Live each day as if it were your last, because one day it will be. ↗

— Julie-Anne

#hostility #joy #live #resentment #anger

A coach is someone who can give correction without causing resentment. ↗

— John Wooden

#coach #correction #give #resentment #someone

Here’s a question every angry man and woman needs to consider: How long are you going to allow people you don’t even like — people who are no longer in your life, maybe even people who aren’t even alive anymore — to control your life? How long? ↗

— Andy Stanley

#bitterness #forgiveness #resentment #anger

God is always trying to give blessings to us, but our minds are usually too full to receive them. ↗

— Shannon L. Alder

#blessings #clouded-thoughts #confusion #delusions #doubt

In a world where change is inevitable and continuous, the need to achieve that change without violence is essential for survival. ↗

— Andrew Young

#change #continuous #essential #inevitable #need

..the past kept pricking at me and I knew that all the elements of those nineteen days in July were astir within me, like phlegm in an attack of bronchitis, waiting to come up. I had kep them buried all these years, but they were there, I knew, the more complete, the more unforgotten, for being carefully embalmed. Never, never had they seen the light of day; the slightest stirring had been stifled with a scattering of earth. My secret- the explanation of me- lay there. I take myself much too seriously, of course. What does it matter to anyone what I was like, then or now? But every man is important to himself at one time or another; my problem had been to reduce the importance, and spread it out as thinly as I could over half a century. Thanks to my interment policy I had come to terms with life, I had made a working -working was the word - arrangement with it, on the one condition that there should be no exhumation. Was it true, what I sometimes told myself, that my best energies had been given to the undertaker's art? If it was, what did it matter? Should have I acquitted myself better, with the knowledge I had now? I doubted it; knowledge may be power, but it is not resilience, or resourcefulness, or adaptability to life, still less is it instinctive sympathy with human nature; and those where qualities I possessed in 1900 in far greater measure that I possess them in 1952. Prologue, page 16 ↗

— L.P. Hartley

#present #art