“The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvelous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven.
Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!”
― Moby-Dick or, The Whale
Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!”
― Moby-Dick or, The Whale
“Hope is not blind optimism. It's not ignoring the enormity of the task ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path. It's not sitting on the sidelines or shirking from a fight. Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it, and to work for it, and to fight for it. Hope is the belief that destiny will not be written for us, but by us, by the men and women who are not content to settle for the world as it is, who have the courage to remake the world as it should be.”
―
―
“Forse il pericolo che minaccia più gravemente l'evoluzione di un'etica della terra è il fatto che i nostri sistemi educativi ed economici vanno nella direzione opposta a quella che li condurrebbe verso lo sviluppo di un'intensa consapevolezza della terra. L'uomo moderno è separato dalla terra da troppi intermediari e arnesi; non ha un rapporto vitale con essa e per lui "terra" significa solo lo spazio fra una città e l'altra, dove si producono i raccolti. Se lo si lascia libero un giorno in campagna, in un luogo che non sia un campo da golf o un belvedere, si annoierà a morte. Se i raccolti fossero prodotti con l'idroponica e non con l'agricoltura gli andrebbe benissimo e inoltre preferisce i sostituti sintetici del legno, pelle, lana e di altri prodotti naturali della terra. In poche parole, la terra ormai gli va stretta.”
― A Sand County Almanac and Sketches Here and There
― A Sand County Almanac and Sketches Here and There
“A shaft of moonlight illuminated a row of sentinel silver birch in a phosphorescent glow, appearing almost ethereal in the relative surrounding gloom. Boris had stopped again, his silhouette a stark black juxtaposition against the background of illuminated branches.”
― The Elephant Tree
― The Elephant Tree
“But of course, it had all been her – by her and about her, and now she was back in the world, not one she could make, but the one that had made her, and she felt herself shrinking under the early evening sky”
― Atonement
― Atonement
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