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| Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. Philosophy is wondering if that means ketchup is a smoothie. Unknown |
| Charisma is being able to sell a tomato-based fruit salad. |
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Love thy neighbor. Thy immigrant neighbor. Thy black neighbor. Thy atheist neighbor. Thy Muslim neighbor. Thy depressed neighbor. Thy Asian neighbor. Thy LGBTQIA+ neighbor. Thy disabled neighbor. Thy indigenous neighbor. Thy Jewish neighbor. Thy political neighbor. Thy elderly neighbor. Thy unhoused neighbor. Thy Latino neighbor. Thy addicted neighbor. Thy Palestinian neighbor. Thy__________neighbor. Unknown |
Your 30s are wild. One minute you're walking around a shop thinking, this mug is so me. The next, you're questioning every career choice, friendship, and whether you've wasted the last five years of your life. You're simultaneously too young to have it all figured out and too old to not know better. You want stability, spontaneity, silence, and a soft life all at once. You crave rest but feel guilty when you're not grinding. You're healing, unlearning, building-and somehow still buying that mug. Unknown |
| Another world, another time, in the age of wonder. A thousand years ago, this land was green and good - until the Crystal cracked. The Dark Crystal |
Someday, I would like to go home. The exact location of this place, I don't know, but someday I would like to go. There would be a pleasing feeling of familiarity and a sense of welcome in everything I saw. People would greet me warmly. They would remind me of the length of my absence and the thousands of miles I had travelled in those restless years, but mostly, they would tell me that I had been missed, and that things were better now I had returned. Autumn would come to this place of welcome, this place I would know to be home. Autumn would come and the air would grow cool, dry and magic, as it does that time of the year. At night, I would walk the streets but not feel lonely, for these are the streets of my home town. These are the streets that I had thought about while far away, and now I was back, and all was as it should be. The trees and the falling leaves would welcome me. I would look up at the moon, and remember seeing it in countries all over the world as I had restlessly journeyed for decades, never remembering it looking the same as when viewed from my hometown. Henry Rollins |
| Pride is important because someone tonight still believes they’re better off dead than being gay. Unknown |
No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me. C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed |
| If you're in trouble, or hurt or need - go to the poor people. They're the only ones that'll help - the only ones. John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath |
| All I'd ever wanted was to forget. but even when I thought I had, pieces had kept emerging, like bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below. Sarah Dessen, Just Listen |
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