#water

The lakes are something which you are unprepared for; they lie up so high, exposed to the light, and the forest is diminished to a fine fringe on their edges, with here and there a blue mountain, like amethyst jewels set around some jewel of the first water, - so anterior, so superior, to all the changes that are to take place on their shores, even now civil and refined, and fair as they can ever be. ↗

— Henry David Thoreau

#change

When you drop a pebble into a pond, ripples spread out, changing all the water in the pool. The ripples hit the shore and rebound, bumping into one another, breaking each other apart. In some small way, the pond is never the same again. ↗

— Neal Shusterman

#change

In a swamp, as in meditation, you begin to glimpse how elusive, how inherently insubstantial, how fleeting our thoughts are, our identities. There is magic in this moist world, in how the mind lets go, slips into sleepy water, circles and nuzzles the banks of palmetto and wild iris, how it seeps across dreams, smears them into the upright world, rots the wood of treasure chests, welcomes the body home. ↗

— Barbara Hurd

#circle #dream #iris #magic #meditation

I do not deny that I have made drawings and watercolors of an erotic nature. But they are always works of art. Are there no artists who have done erotic pictures? ↗

— Egon Schiele

#art #artists #deny #done #drawings

Civilised life, you know, is based on a huge number of illusions in which we all collaborate willingly. The trouble is we forget after a while that they are illusions and we are deeply shocked when reality is torn down around us. ↗

— J.G. Ballard

#normalcy #the-trouble-with-forgetting #life

Life goes on with fragile normalcy. ↗

— Sara Gruen

#life

Just about a month from now I'm set adrift, with a diploma for a sail and lots of nerve for oars. ↗

— Richard Halliburton

#direction #education #graduation #guts #humor

Water is nothing if not ingemination, an encore to the tenacity of life. ↗

— Terry Tempest Williams

#water #life

She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air. ↗

— Holly Black

#faery #ocean #sea #water #love

- the rusalka was kneeling beside Plain Kate on the deck. She was made of fog and shadow until Kate caught her eye, and then, all at once, she became human. She was young, mischievously sad, a fox in a story. Kate fell in love with her. And then she was gone. ↗

— Erin Bow

#ghost #monster #water-spirit #love