Hearted Quotes (page 63)
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Sexual satisfaction eases the stranglehold of materialism, since status symbols no longer look sexual, but irrelevant. Product lust weakens where emotional and sexual lust intensifies. The price we pay for artificially buoying up this market is our heart's desire. The beauty myth keeps a gap of fantasy between men and women. That gap is made with mirrors; no law of nature supports it. It keeps us spending vast sums of money and looking distractedly around us, but its smoke and reflection...
Naomi Wolf
That which causes us trials shall yield us triumph: and that which make our hearts ache shall fill us with gladness. The only true happiness is to learn, to advance, and to improve: which could not happen unless we had commenced with error, ignorance, and imperfection. We must pass through the darkness, to reach the light.
Albert Pike
A learned man is a sedentary, concentrated solitary enthusiast, who searches through books to discover some particular grain of truth upon which he has set his heart. If the passion for reading conquers him, his gains dwindle and vanish between his fingers. A reader, on the other hand, must check the desire for learning at the outset; if knowledge sticks to him well and good, but to go in pursuit of it, to read on a system, to become a specialist or an authority, is very apt to kill what...
Virginia Woolf
In my craft or sullen art. Exercised in the still night. When only the moon rages. And the lovers lie abed. With all their griefs in their arms, I labour by singing light. Not for ambition or bread. Or the strut and trade of charms. On the ivory stages. But for the common wages. Of their most secret heart. Not for the proud man apart. From the raging moon I write. On these spindrift pages. Nor for the towering dead. With their nightingales and psalms. But for the lovers, their arms. Round the...
Dylan Thomas
It is a strangeworld, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, andtroubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make themall dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and drybones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall, alldance together to the music that he make with thatsmileless mouth of him. Ah, we men and womenare like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us differentways. Then tears come, and like the rain on the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain...
Bram Stoker
