Beautiful view of the river

Sign up My Books Browse ▾ Community ▾ Join Goodreads and meet your next favorite book! Sign Up Now River Quotes Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters. Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories Tags: flood, river, time, water, words Like Likes: 766 May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children. Rainer Maria Rilke Tags: children, flow, honesty, integrity, moral-courage, river Like Likes: 499 Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future. Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha Tags: river, time, water Like Likes: 483 The river is everywhere. Herman Hesse, Siddhartha Tags: flow, life, omnipresence, river Like Likes: 202 There is another alphabet, whispering from every leaf, singing from every river, shimmering from every sky. Dejan Stojanovic Tags: alphabet, another, dejan-stojanovic, leaf, literature, literature-quotes, poetry, poetry-quotes, quotes, river, rivers, shimmering, singing, sky, thoughts, whispering, wisdom Like Likes: 152 Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!” said Piglet, feeling him. Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time. A. A. Milne Tags: eeyore, humor, piglet, river, wet Like Likes: 139 I like geography best, he said, because your mountains & rivers know the secret. Pay no attention to boundaries. Brian Andreas, Story People Tags: boundaries, geography, jared-wheat, mountain, mountains, no-boundaries, paying-attention, personal-boundaries, river, rivers, secret, secret-of-life, secrets, the-biggest-secret Like Likes: 134 When the river of emotions bursts its banks and expectations go over the edges of reality, the brain creates hallucinations. Ringxiety-stricken people feel illusive vibrating alerts and hear phantom phone rings, since absence of ringing generates scaring emptiness and destroys their self-esteem. ("Kein Schwein ruft mich an" ) Erik Pevernagie Tags: absence, alert, banks, brain, burst, create, destroy, edge, emotions, emptiness, expectations, feel, generate, hallucinations, hear, illusive, people, phantom, phantoms-in-the-brain, phone, reality, ring, ringing, ringxiety, river, scaring, schwein, self-esteem, stricken, vibrate Like Likes: 109 On and on they flew, over the countryside parceled out in patches of green and brown, over roads and rivers winding through the landscapes like strips of matte and glossy ribbon. J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Harry Potter, #7) Tags: color, painting, river Like Likes: 103 I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It’s always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land. Even the greatest rivers- the Nile and the Ganges, the Yangtze and he Mississippi, the Amazon and the great grey-green greasy Limpopo all set about with fever trees-must have been no more than trickles and flickering streams before they grew into mighty rivers. Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso. Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there’s too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?