A Quote by Rumi

I am amazed at the seeker of purity When time for polishing comes Complaints of harsh treatment Love is a lawsuit Without evidence, you will not win My son, when one beats the rug The beating is not intended against the rug But against the dust inside the rug My son, that harsh treatment Is not intended against you But against the ill qualities inside you
When someone beats a rug, the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.
Are you up? Dressing? (Astrid) No. I’m pissing on your rug. What do you think I’m doing? (Zarek) I’m blind. For all I know you really are peeing on my rug, which is a very nice rug incidentally, so I hope you’re kidding. (Astrid)
Dear God, help me. Do not forget me on this tiny cinder lost in a galaxy that is lost–a heart no bigger than a speck of dust beating, beating against death, against meaninglessness, against guilt, against sorrow.
I write first drafts by hand. Never do I open an umbrella inside the house. I don't predict wins or losses. I used to stand on a certain piece of rug if my brothers and husband were watching football and their team got in trouble - but now the luck went out of that rug. If a circle is involved, I try to go clockwise.
Afghans excel at fighting Afghans. This is what Afghans do, even when they are not being invaded by foreign powers. They fight each other, tribe against tribe, brother against brother, half-brother against half-brother, cousin against cousin, uncle against nephew, father against son.
I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.
Brother raises a hand against brother and son against father (how terrible!) and the father also against son. And moreover it is a continuity-matter, for if the father did not strike the son, they would not be alike. It is done to perpetuate similarity. Oh, Henderson, man cannot keep still under the blows.... A hit B? B hit C?--we have not enough alphabet to cover the condition. A brave man will try to make the evil stop with him. He shall keep the blow. No man shall get it from him, and that is a sublime ambition.
When I left home at sixteen I bought a small rug. It was my roll-up world. Whatever room, whatever temporary place I had, I unrolled the rug. It was a map of myself. Invisible to others, but held in the rug, were all the places I had stayed - for a few weeks, for a few months. On the first night anywhere new I liked to lie in bed and look at the rug to remind myself that I had what I needed even though what I had was so little. Sometimes you have to live in precarious and temporary places. Unsuitable places. Wrong places. Sometimes the safe place won’t help you.
Syllogisms ? la mode - If you are against labor racketeers, then you are against the working man. If you are against demagogues, then you are against democracy. If you are against Christianity, then you are against God. If you are against trying a can of Old Dr. Quack's Cancer Salve, then you are in favor of letting Uncle Julius die.
I've been in revolt for years against ignominy, against injustice, against inequality, against immorality, against the exploitation of human beings.
His mouth opens. From inside him comes a slow stream, without breath, without interruption. It flows up through his body and out upon me; it passes through the cabin, through the wreck; washing the cliffs and shores of the island, it runs northward and southward to the ends of the earth. Soft and cold, dark and unending, it beats against my eyelids, against the skin of my face.
The way the Pak government treated me is only testimony to the ill treatment meted out to artistes. There was outrage against me. People were amazed that I had applied for citizenship in India. I don't give a damn about getting trolled. I have earned immense respect and love in India.
Creating a family in this turbulent world is an act of faith, a wager that against all odds there will be a future, that love can last, that the heart can triumph against all adversities and even against the grinding wheel of time.
Here is a mental treatment guaranteed to cure every ill that flesh is heir to: sit for half an hour every night and mentally forgive everyone against whom you have any ill will or antipathy.
The months before my son was born, I used to yell from night to morn, 'Whatever it is, I'm against it! No matter what it is or who commenced it, I'm against it!'
Any father whose son raises his hand against him is guilty of having produced a son who raised his hand against him.
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