A Quote by Rumi

From the urgent way lovers want each other to the seeker's search for truth, all moving is from the mover. Every Pull Draws Us To The Ocean. — © Rumi
From the urgent way lovers want each other to the seeker's search for truth, all moving is from the mover. Every Pull Draws Us To The Ocean.
All lovers in the world are alike: they fall in love by chance; they see each other, and are attached to each other by the features of their faces; they illuminate each other by the fierce preference which is akin to madness; they assert the reality of illusions; and for a moment they change falsehood into truth.
Let us not search for the guilty ones only among others, let us speak the bitter truth: we are all guilty ... each and every one of us.
GOD Has Planted in Your Heart [ ] The Desire To Search For HIM. Do Not Look At Your Weaknesses But Focus on The Search. Every Seeker is Worthy of This Search. Strive To Redouble Your Efforts, So That Your Soul May Escape From This Material Prison.
We don't want to be Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones. That type of thing wasn't what we were after. It was most important for each of us to be equal in input and output - each of us has to pull the same amount, musically, in composition and in every sense of being in the band.
There never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many. These truths challenge each other, recoil from each other, reflect each other, ignore each other, tease each other, are blind to each other. Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.
I think stories, good ones, have a universal message and appeal that connects us on a deep level. If there is a common thread, I think it is one of a search for each other and a search for self...and how that search is wrapped in a blanket of love.
We've got to learn from each other. We have to put ourselves out there, we want to pull the other up because we want/should pull the other line up as we all have strengths and weaknesses and together we make a stronger group, family, community, world. And so it becomes a beautiful idea that can be practiced in that dealing with a person with autism can be...It's just different. It's not weird.
You hear about actors who were doing five years on a series as lovers and actually hated each other. I don't know if I could pull it off.
I think that's actually what draws me to family stories: the various roles we each play with each member of our families, and how different they can be from who we are with our friends and partners and lovers. I'm endlessly fascinated by how we navigate these family dynamics; they are the dramas each of us live out day after day, often in ways we don't even realize.
We are different. We are equal in every way but our voices are important to each other and our need to want to listen to each other and try to understand, because sometimes we are so difficult to understand. Men to understand us, and we to understand men. And we don't. We don't connect the way we should.
There is an old story from the Eastern tradition that says that when the gods created the universe, they found a place for everything but the truth, and this created a problem, because the gods did not want this wisdom discovered right away. One of the gods suggested the top of the highest mountain, another the farthest star, a third spoke up for the dark side of the moon, and another for the bottom of the deepest ocean. Finally, they decide to place truth inside the human heart. In that way, we would search for it all over the universe, with the secret within us all the time.
The universe was exploding, each particle away from the next, hurtling us into dark and lonely space, eternally tearing us away from each other - child out of the womb, friend away from friend, moving from each other, each through his own pathway towards the goal-box of solitary death.
Lovers think they are looking for each other, but there is only one search: wandering This world is wandering that, both inside one transparent sky. In here there is no dogma and no heresy.
Lovers move like lightning and wind. No contest. Theologians mumble, rumble-dumble, necessity and free will, while lover and beloved pull themselves into each other.
Like most of the others, I was a seeker, a mover, a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser.
Romantic lovers require from each other at least the facade of reason: We desire to be what romantic love makes us appear in the other's eyes. We want to imagine we are deserving of the love we inspire.
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