#oil

I cannot help fearing that men may reach a point where they look on every new theory as a danger, every innovation as a toilsome trouble, every social advance as a first step toward revolution, and that they may absolutely refuse to move at all. ↗

— Alexis de Tocqueville

#advance #cannot #danger #every #fearing

It is in our best interest to. . . embark on a revolutionary change that will lead us away from oil dependency rather than drag our feet and suffer the costs of becoming growingly dependent on a diminishing resource.' Truer words were never written. ↗

— Albert Marrin

#energy #oil #change

Staying with detractors is like sleeping in a room located just behind the public toilet. You will never feel comfortable until you relocate. ↗

— Israelmore Ayivor

#change-your-life #comfortable #detractors #dislike #enemies

Writers often have the cleanest windows, floors, fridges and toilets, the most up-to-date filing system or the best record for returning calls or e-mails because, in the moment, just about any task seems more palatable than sitting down to write.” (p.136) ↗

— Mark David Gerson

#filing #floors #fridges #returning-calls #toilets

Don’t spoil me with your lies, love me with your truth. ↗

— T.F. Hodge

#lies #love #quotes #relationships #spoil

Aware that his disappointment has its source in a defective education, he looks with anxiety on his other daughters, whose minds, like lovely buds, are beginning to open. Where shall he find a genial soil in which he may place them to expand? ↗

— Emma Willard

#aware #beginning #buds #daughters #defective

With riddles as black as coals, and answers as invisible as our past, I can only depend upon the crest of the rolling wave I now traversed; a romance worshiped only by the dreamer in us all, a psithurism of trust making its way through the years of our ascension to one day climb above the kaleidoscopic canopy of this mortal coil. ↗

— Dave Matthes

#fate #love #mortal-coil #mystery #rebirth

Katja kneeled in the Parisian streets, shaking and weak from the pain in her head and heart. It had come a second ago—a vague vision from another decade, nearly forgotten by its sender and screaming with emotional turmoil. And only moments after she‟d fed. In the now decrepit walls of a place she once knew, she stared down at a child in despair. In the room where a man breathed his last and a young woman‟s sorrow grew, he lay weeping in a rage only the heart of all sorrow can know. Death and fear came off of him in waves as lightning shared the secret of the man inside the child—the man who would be her beginning and her end if she allowed it. ↗

— Amanda M. Lyons

#eyes-like-blue-fire #man #rage #turmoil #vampire

Love is like a forest, I think as I kill trees by squandering toilet paper while “decorating” my ex girlfriend’s front yard.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#crazy #decorate #decorating #forest #girlfriend

A few weeks ago I had a dream. I dreamed I was back at the house, in the red room, reading my microeconomics textbook. Maddy outside playing with Hope, and Agnes was preparing dinner. It was just like old times. I was elated. I knew all along that they weren't really dead. It was all just a terrible mistake. Maddy joined me in the library. Strangely, she didn't smell like anything. Not her usual crème brulee or green apples or candy. That's when I realized she was dead, though I didn't know I was dreaming. She apologized for everything and then proceeded to explain why things had turned out the way they had. Her story made complete sense. It was what I needed to hear. Finally I had an answer. Finally I could let go. And then she vanished When I woke up, in a pool of sweat, I couldn't remember a thing Maddy had said. ↗

— Katherine Easer

#death #hope #spoiler #understanding #death