A Quote by William Bernbach

An idea can turn to dust or magic, depending on the talent that rubs against it. — © William Bernbach
An idea can turn to dust or magic, depending on the talent that rubs against it.
I'm part of the people who are more neutral. I'm just waiting for the dust to settle so that we can turn our guns against the Republicans.
Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.
There are 3 kinds of magic in our world. The peddling little magician magic like Uncle Andrew in 'The Magicians Newphew' where people mess around with things they don't understand. It's movie magic. Then there is the magic of the evil side of things. The demonic forces. And that's not really magic... it's corruption of what really exists. And then finally there is the magic of the Holy Spirit of God which is the creation and maintenence of the universe. We don't understand it... and we haven't the faintest idea how He does it. But it's real. That's the deep magic.
The magic in that country was so thick and tenacious that it settled over the land like chalk-dust and over floors and shelves like slightly sticky plaster-dust. (Housecleaners in that country earned unusually good wages.) If you lived in that country, you had to de-scale your kettle of its encrustation of magic at least once a week, because if you didn't, you might find yourself pouring hissing snakes or pond slime into your teapot instead of water.
Marriage is not comfortable and harmonious. Rather it is a place of individuation where a person rubs up against oneself and against the partner, bumps up against the person in love and in rejection, and in this fashion learns to know oneself, the world, good and evil, the heights and the depths.
See, talent is important, and so is hard work. But if you don't have destiny and good karma on your side, talent cannot do the magic by itself.
If foundations made of stone can turn to dust, then the hardest hearts of steel can turn to rust.
The meaning of an artwork is changing depending on who's looking at it - depending on what culture, depending on what time, and so forth. It's alive.
By obliging men to turn their attention to other affairs than their own, it rubs off that private selfishness which is the rust of society.
Any time some well-meaning person forces you to demonstrate you have no talent and rubs your nose in the fact you're a failure at the only dream you ever had, take another drink.
It's not mainland China that rubs me up the wrong way, it is the dictatorship that rubs me up the wrong way. It's the freedom that we Chinese people are not allowed that rubs me up the wrong way.
My idea of magic doesn't have much to do with stage tricks and illusions. The whole world abounds in magic.
And that's what I don't like about magic, Captain. 'cos it's *magic*. You can't ask questions, it's magic. It doesn't explain anything, it's magic. You don't know where it comes from, it's magic! That's what I don't like about magic, it does everything by magic!
For men use, if they have an evil turn, to write it in marble; and whoso doth us a good turn we write it in dust.
Time is a lot of the things people say that God is. There's always preexisting, and having no end. There's the notion of being all powerful-because nothing can stand against time, can it? Not mountains, not armies. And time is, of course, all-healing. Give anything enough time, and everything is taken care of: all pain encompassed, all hardship erased, all loss subsumed. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Remember, man, that thou art dust; and unto dust thou shalt return. And if time is anything akin to God, I suppose that memory must be the devil.
If you don't like an idea, put another idea against it! If you use your fist against an idea that you don't like, you only prove how horribly primitive you are!
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