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
Tension is the great integrity.
Interpretation
Tension can be seen as a necessary force that maintains balance and integrity in our lives and structures.
R. Buckminster Fuller's quote suggests that tension, often viewed negatively, plays a crucial role in maintaining the integrity of systems and structures. Just as tension holds together the components of a bridge or a fabric, it also signifies the dynamic balance in life and relationships, reminding us that opposing forces can coexist to create strength and durability.
In practice
In a motivational speech to encourage resilience during difficult times.
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.
Ideas, in a free society, are not a crime- and neither can they serve as the justification of a crime.
Man is a wonder to himself; he can neither govern nor know himself.
All religions have honored the beggar. For he proves that in a matter at the same time as prosaic and holy, banal and regenerative as the giving of alms, intellect and morality, consistency and principles are miserably inadequate.
sure, we need the gypsies. we always have. because if you don't have someone to run out of town once in a while, how are you going to know you yourself belong there?
My day passes between logic, whistling, going for walks, and being depressed. I wish to God that I were more intelligent and everything would finally become clear to me - or else that I needn't live much longer.
How do you lose a word? Does it vanish into your memory, like an old toy in a cupboard, and lie hidden in the cobwebs and dust, waiting to be cleaned out or rediscovered?
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