#try

Laura remarked that science was dependent upon poetry, that all scientific description was metaphoric. ↗

— Anne Rice

#science #science

There was something ghost-like and insubstantial about gases to these early chemists. They called liquids that turned into gases easily, "spirits." Methyl alcohol, they called "wood spirit"; ethyl alcohol, "wine spirit." Even today, alcoholic beverages are frequently referred to as "spirits." (Modern Arabs, from whose language the word "alcohol" was taken, call ethyl alcohol "spirit" from the English. This is a queer exchange.) ↗

— Isaac Asimov

#chemistry #humor #science #science

No non-poetic account of reality can be complete. ↗

— John Myhill

#god-s-whisper-creation-s-thunder #john-d-barrow #john-myhill #metaphysics #mysticism

Never think that war is a good thing, grandchildren. Though it may be necessary at times to defend our people, war is a sickness that must be cured. War is a time out of balance. When it is truly over, we must work to restore peace and sacred harmony once again. ↗

— Joseph Bruchac

#peacemaking #war #harmony

There is darkness in light, there is pain in joy, and there are thorns on the rose. ↗

— Cate Tiernan

#magic #poetry #romance #tiernan #light

April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain. ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#cruelty #poetry #seasons #weather #dead

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes, the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink. But the juke-box inside me is playing a song That says something different. And when was it wrong? On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care. the head does its best but the heart is the boss- I admit it before I am halfway across ↗

— Wendy Cope

#love #poetry #love

I sat there for three hours and did not feel the time or the boredom of our talk and its foolish disconnection. As long as I could hear his voice, I was quite lost, quite blind, quite outside my own self. ↗

— Anaïs Nin

#lost

I was the first Chicano to write in complete sentences. ↗

— Gary Soto

#poetry #first-sentence

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. ↗

— W.B. Yeats

#poems #poetry #resignation #innocence