The night before Atlantis sank beneath the waves forever, the members of the MysterySchool set sail from their doomed continent in twelve boats, headed for twelve different points on the globe.
When all moves equally (says Pascal), nothing seems to move as in a vessel under sail; and when all run by common consent into vice, none appear to do so. He that stops first, views as from a fixed point the horrible extravagance that transports the rest.
One good reason for the popularity of "reductionism" among the philosophical outposts of the Western Establishment is that it can be, and is, used as a device for trying to take the wind, so to speak, out of the sails of Marxism. . . . In essence reductionism is a kind of anti-Marxist caricature of Marxist determinism. It is what anti-Marxists pretend that Marxist determinism is.
Farewell," they cried, "Wherever you fare till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.
I didn't choose to be a guitar player. That was something that felt like it was chosen for me. And with that blessing and curse, I, throughout my entire career, it's been my job to weave my convictions into my vocation. And whether I'm standing in the streets of Chicago or the Occupy Wall Street or in Madison, Wisconsin, my job is to steel the backbone of people on the frontlines of social justice struggles, and to put wind in sails of those struggles. And people who are fighting on a, on a daily basis, at a grass roots level, for the things that I believe in.
Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.
Separately there was only wind, water, sail, and hull, but at my hand the four had been given purpose and direction.
We were wavering around like a ship without a sail.
A ship does not sail with yesterday's wind.
Speaking as he unintentionally launched his farewell tour by announcing that the 2000 season would be his last before retirement: Honestly, I had never, ever in my wildest dreams believed I would ever do this. All I wanted to do was to play it out and when it was time to go, hang it up, take off and sail into the sunset somewhere.
Nothing is here to stay Everything has to begin and end A ship in a bottle won't sail All we can do is dream that the wind will blow us across the water A ship in a bottle set sail
Let passion fill your sails, but let reason be your rudder.
Shrewd and crafty politicians, when they wish to bring about an unpopular measure, must not go straight forward to work, if they do they will certainly fail; and failures to men in power, are like defeats to a general, they shake their popularity. Therefore, since they cannot sail in the teeth of the wind, they must tack, and ultimately gain their object, by appearing at times to be departing from it.
Mountains inspire awe in any human person who has a soul. They remind us of our frailty, our unimportance, of the briefness of our span on this earth. They touch the heavens, and sail serenely at an altitude beyond even the imaginings of a mere mortal.
Civilization sails prettily like a child's rubber balloon until it hits a sharp object; then it is likely to collapse like the balloon.
Gray sail against the sky, Gray butterfly! Have you a dream for going. Or are you the blind wind's blowing?
O my son! The dunya (world) is a deep ocean in which many have drowned! Let your ship be taqwallah (fear of Allah), and load your ship with Iman-billah (believe in Allah), and let her sail be tawakkal (trust) on Allah! Insha'Allah you will survive then.
Public opinion is the pennant on a nation's mast which shows the politician and the editor how to trim the sails.
But who is this, what thing of sea or land,- Female of sex it seems,- That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay, Comes this way sailing Like a stately ship Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles Of Javan or Gadire, With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play, An amber scent of odorous perfume Her harbinger?
I would rather sail and hit a rock than sit and rot in dry dock.
Let the winds blow! a fiercer gale Is wild within me! what may quell That sullen tempest? I must sail Whither, O whither, who can tell!
If a man knows not to which port he sails, no wind is favorable.
My job is to steel the backbone of people on the frontlines of social justice struggles, and to put wind in sails of those struggles. And people who are fighting on a, on a daily basis, at a grass roots level.
I had a dream about building a house on a dock, composed from 100 triangles. You'd have to sail from room to room. And maybe the entrance would be the mouth of a whale.
We don't control everything. There are genetic influences. There are environmental exposures we don't control. I cannot guarantee anyone I counsel that by following what I hope is the good advice I offer them, they will live long and prosper. That's what I'm hoping for but I can't guarantee that. What I can tell them is this: "Look, I can help you firmly grip the wheel, and you can steer the ship. You're never going to control the winds and you're never going to control the seas. But if you sail well you can get through just about anything."
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