#with

Every life has its years in which one progresses as on a tedious and dusty street of poplars, without caring to know where he is. ↗

— Max Muller

#dusty #every #know #life #progresses

What is emitted from the divine, though it be only like the reflection from the fire, still has the divine reality in itself, and one might almost ask what were the fire without glow, the sun without light, or the Creator without the creature? ↗

— Max Muller

#ask #creator #creature #divine #emitted

The minute I get into a hotel room, I scatter my stuff everywhere. It's like a bomb site within a minute. So I suppose that means I'm trying to nest. ↗

— Carey Mulligan

#everywhere #get #hotel #hotel room #i

I've always wanted a C trumpet on top, to have that same kind of facility without shouting. ↗

— Gerry Mulligan

#facility #i #kind #same #shouting

Life is the only art that we are required to practice without preparation, and without being allowed the preliminary trials, the failures and botches, that are essential for training. ↗

— Lewis Mumford

#art #being #essential #failures #life

It has not been for nothing that the word has remained man's principal toy and tool: without the meanings and values it sustains, all man's other tools would be worthless. ↗

— Lewis Mumford

#man #meanings #nothing #other #principal

I have about 50 guitars around the house. I can't take more than a few steps without finding one to pick up. ↗

— Bill Mumy

#around #few #finding #guitars #house

Today, the notion of progress in a single line without goal or limit seems perhaps the most parochial notion of a very parochial century. ↗

— Lewis Mumford

#goal #limit #line #most #notion

Without fullness of experience, length of days is nothing. When fullness of life has been achieved, shortness of days is nothing. That is perhaps why the young have usually so little fear of death; they live by intensities that the elderly have forgotten. ↗

— Lewis Mumford

#been #days #death #elderly #experience

In my childhood I always felt that I was treated unjustly, without a mother, sick, and with the threat of punishment in Hell hanging over my head. ↗

— Edvard Munch

#childhood #felt #hanging #head #hell