Indienne Textiles Quotes

#1. I'd rather spend half an hour in the company of a top carpenter, than three hours in the company of an average brain surgeon

Winston Churchill

#2. The pain of knowing is killing me more than killing me would kill me, so I jump just to end it.

Neal Shusterman

#3. Think clearly, act sensibly, commit yourself to caring and work hard in order to discover joy. Then give the images back to the world from which they were taken.

Bill Jay

#4. On this sacred path of Radical Acceptance, rather than striving for perfection, we discover how to love ourselves into wholeness.

Tara Brach

#5. Good and Evil are names for what people do, not for what they are ... stopped believing there was a power of good and evil. That they were outside of us ... People are too complicated for labels.

Philip Pullman

#6. Hope, like despair, is something of a distraction: it gets in the way of a clear view of the horizon.

Paul Kingsnorth

#7. But that would put me on a path that would make me totally divergent from who I am. I don't have to go through the heartache many other people go through, of figuring out what makes them "wealthy." I know what brings me joy.

Ben Sollee

#8. It is usually in better taste to praise an isolated action or a production of genius, than a man's character as a whole.

Elizabeth Wordsworth

#9. In addition to helping me understand what love looks like between people, these definitions also forced me to acknowledge that cultivating self-love and self-acceptance is not optional. They aren't endeavors that I can look into if and when I have some spare time. They are priorities.

Brene Brown

#10. I have been contending all my life, and always with God.

Lincoln Steffens

#11. In our society many of the old rituals have lost much of their power. New ones have not arisen.

R.D. Laing

#12. The true poet, is like a man who's happy anywhere, in endless measure, if he's allowed to look at leaves and grass, to see the sun rise and set.

Jacob Grimm

#13. Few young poets [are] testing their poems against the ear. They're writing for the page, and the page, let me tell you, is a cold bed.

Stanley Kunitz

#14. It smelled bad there, like blood and rotting meat, a dense, heavy smell very different from the smell of his own town, which smelled of dirty clothes, sweat clinging to the skin, pissed-on earth, which is a thin smell, and smell like Chorda filum.
2666, Bolano

Roberto Bolano