Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.– ~George Orwell, 1984. (via iheartloons)
We advance and retreat on each other like oceans in the world with no land looking for a shore hoping we have found one dreaming how our tide hits the sand with bright shells and seaweed that shine like a treasure and will stay where we brought them forever.
Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a...– Cicero (via wildcat2030)
Time is a machine, it will convert your pain into experience.– from the novel by @Charles_Yu
We are drowning in information and starving for knowledge.– Rutherford D. Rogers
I need to pray to someone here… Just think: a simple ant Once feels like...– Translation from Russian of the song of singer-songwriter Bulat Okudjava “The Ballad of the Moscow Ant” (1959)
You ask me: What is the greatest happiness on earth? Two things: changing my...– Christopher Logue
The sounds can come and go, but the music is always there… like the proofs for the theorems which we might never discover.
Seek simplicity, and distrust it.– Alfred North Whitehead (via fast-t-feasts)
“Has it ever struck you… that life is all memory, except for the one present...– Tennessee Williams, American writer who worked principally as a playwright in the American theater (1911-1983), The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore cited in Michael Chorost, World Wide Mind (tnx johnsparker)
Running with Data: 'W' Considered Harmful →
runningwithdata: Not the magazine and not even the former president. But the letter ‘W’ itself. The letter ‘W’, 23rd in the English alphabet, is unique in two ways: it is the only letter whose name is more than one syllable, and also the only letter whose name doesn’t include the sound it makes. …
The meta-limeric (not mine!)
There once was an X from place B Who satisfied predicate P. The X did thing A In a specified way, Resulting in circumstance C.
What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but...– Soren Kierkegaard (via 500daysofkissingmypillow)
Once in a while, life looks like finding your way in a city with no street names or home numbers. Every time you see a door, you can’t help asking yourself: am I truly near my destination, and everything I have left to do is ring the bell and enter? What if I’ll never get out again? Or worse yet, may be I have taken the wrong turn a couple of quarters ago, and this is the wrong street...
Ayer was now standing near the entrance to the great white living-room of...– A. J. Ayer: A Life, by Ben Rogers via A. J. Ayer to the rescue! (via xixidu)