A Quote by Sun Yat-sen

The India-China intercourse began from the era of the Eastern Han Dynasty. Both interacted with each other peacefully and conducted scholarly and ideological exchanges. Both loved and admired each other; never had there been a slight clash.
I will tell you what, the Rock was my nemesis. We did enough for each other; we put each other over to be famous. If we didn't have that feud with each other, we wouldn't have had the success we both had in pro wrestling. We really did build each other. I'm very thankful we had those opportunities and those matches.
Love leaped out in front of us like a murderer in an alley leaping out of nowhere, and struck us both at once. As lightning strikes, as a Finnish knife strikes! She, by the way, insisted afterwards that it wasn't so, that we had, of course, loved each other for a long, long time, without knowing each other, never having seen each other.
Both times I was in India, I could not get people to listen to each other. I had to literally tell people to listen to each other and tell them that they can't get creative and find alternate solutions if they don't listen to each other. There's a lot of arguing and justifying.
Wrong fails because it is wrong. The wrongs, the untruths, are inconsistent with each other. They clash against each other and confute each other. They neutralize each other and are lost.
We are foolish, and without excuse foolish, in speaking of the superiority of one sex to the other, as if they could be compared in similar things! Each has what the other has not; each completes the other; they are in nothing alike and the happiness and perfection of both depend on each asking and receiving from the other what the other only can give.
Ty and I are extremely competitive. We don't go soft on each other. We push each other, which ultimately helps us both. We race against each other in everything we do, whether it's a foot race to the car when we go out to a restaurant at night or on the racetrack. It's in the back of my mind that he's on the track with me, but we're both competitive and want to win.
They were now both ready, not to begin from scratch, but to continue with a love that had survived for thirteen years in hibernation. They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They'd both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They'd both lost their way without the other. Each had tried to find love with other people. But all that was now finished.
There was an exchange between me and Andy Warhol. We met, we liked each other, we appreciated each other. He would come to us for Easter in Marrakech. In September we would meet up in Venice. And every time I went to New York I would spend some time with him at the Factory, where we would have dinner together. He's a man that I admired deeply. He shook up the notion of painting - not as much as Marcel Duchamp had done, but he was part of the same general movement. And then we both admired art deco.
My aunts told wonderful stories. Not to me, but to each other. We had a very strong family. My mother's sisters loved each other intensely. The uncles loved each other intensely.
Before, they had never found themselves broken together. Usually, it was one needing the other but not both needing each other, and so there had been a way, by touching, to borrow from the stronger one's strength.
In Europe men and women have intercourse because they love each other. In the South Seas they love each other because they have had intercourse. Who is right?
My dad has pretty much taught me, he's built this thing with me, he trains with me, practices with me, goes to the gym with me, we battle each other at the go-kart track. We're so competitive with each other, and I feel like we both make each other better because we're so hard on each other, just trying to be the best we can.
Together they had overcome the daily incomprehension, the instantaneous hatred, the reciprocal nastiness, and fabulous flashes of glory in the conjugal conspiracy. It was time when they both loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other moral trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore.
I wish the people of India and Pakistan peace and harmony. Artistes and craftsmen in both the countries must interact with each other as talent has no borders. We both have common music, culture and craftsmanship.
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.
Once, I discovered the skulls of two impala rams, their horns locked into an irreversible figure-of-eight; the two animals had been trapped in combat, latched to each other during the battle of the rut. The harder they had pulled to escape from each other, the more intractably stuck they were, until they had fallen exhausted, to their knees, in an embrace of hatred that had killed them both.
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