Parents are usually more careful to bestow knowledge on their children rather than virtue, the art of speaking well rather than doing well; but their manners should be of the greatest concern.
R. Buckminster FullerRead
Above all, I am motivated by the most mysterious drive we ever experience -that of love - I don't think there's any influence on my life that compares with love.
Interpretation
Love is the strongest motivation in life, surpassing all other influences.
In this quote, R. Buckminster Fuller asserts that love is the most profound and mysterious force that drives human behavior. He emphasizes that no other experience or influence can compare to the power of love in shaping our lives, suggesting that love is a fundamental motivator behind our actions and decisions.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of love in personal relationships.
Parents are usually more careful to bestow knowledge on their children rather than virtue, the art of speaking well rather than doing well; but their manners should be of the greatest concern.
There is no such thing as genius, some children are just less damaged than others.
Only the free-wheeling artist-explorer, non-academic, scientist-philosopher, mechanic, economist-poet who has never waited for patron-starting and accrediting of his co-ordinate capabilities holds the prime initiative today.
The end move in politics is always to pick up a gun.
I have spent most of my life unlearning things that were proved not to be true
The earth is like a spaceship that didn't come with an operating manual.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist.
When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for one another's lips. Lovers are made by a kiss.
Everytime you grab at love you will lose a snowflake of your memory
I could have waited years, now that I knew the end of the story. I was cold and wet and very happy. I could even look with charity towards the altar and the figure dangling there. She loves us both, I thought, but if there is to be a conflict between an image and a man, I know who will win. I could put my hand on her thigh or my mouth on her breast; he was imprisoned behind the altar and couldn't move to plead his cause.
Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? Why does anyone ever make love?
Love like there's no tomorrow, and if tomorrow comes, love again.
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