Home > Topic > The bridges
1 " (2002) In Rome, month upon month, I struggled with how to structure the book about my father (He already had the water, he just had to discover jars). At one point I laid each chapter out on the terrazzo floor, eighty-three in all, arranged them like the map of an imaginary city. Some of the piles of paper, I imagined, were freestanding buildings, some were clustered into neighborhoods, and some were open space. On the outskirts, of course, were the tenements--abandoned, ramshackled. The spaces between the piles were the roads, the alleyways, the footpaths, the rivers. The bridges to other neighborhoods, the bridges out...In this way I could get a sense if one could find their way through the book, if the map I was creating made sense, if it was a place one would want to spend some time in. If one could wander there, if one could get lost. "
― Nick Flynn , The Ticking Is the Bomb: A Memoir
2 " The only way you can write is by the light of the bridges burning behind you. "
― Richard Peck
3 " The relationships flourish with exchanged respect, and not by pretending or beggary, as that expressing the opinions is the shortest way to build the bridges of confidence and expanding the circle of special relationships. "
― Maryam Abdullah Alnaymi
4 " Dear Influencers: Trolls will lurk under the bridges you build to gobble you up. They are hangry for attention. Build bridges anyways. "
― Richie Norton
5 " Sometimes the bridges you burn light the way out of your darkness, but the memory of the blaze will be burned into your heart and mind forever. "
― Shannon L. Alder
6 " One of the bridges between sexes, to be sure, is sex. But men, too often feeling deficient in discourse, place too much emphasis on intercourse. "
― James Hollis , Under Saturn's Shadow: The Wounding and Healing of Men
7 " Burning bridges behind you is understandable. It's the bridges before us that we burn, not realizing we may need to cross, that brings regret. "
― Anthony Liccione
8 " I held Angie Luna in that room for hours, and I remember the different times we made love like epochs in a civilization, each movement and every touch, apex upon abyss. In the luxury of our bed, we tried every position and every angle. I explored the curves on her body and delighted in seeing the freedom of her ecstasy. Her desperate whispers and pleas. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. We lay in bed with our limbs entangled, in a pacific silence that reminded me of existing on a beach just for the sake of such an existence. I couldn't imagine the world ever becoming better, and for some strange reason the thought slipped into my head that I had suddenly grown to be an old man because I could only hope to repeat, but never improve on, a night like this. I finally took her home sometime when the interstate was empty, and the bridges seemed to lead to nowhere, for they were desolate too. "
― Sergio Troncoso , The Last Tortilla: and Other Stories
9 " May the bridges I burn light the way "
10 " Today and onwards, I stand proud, for the bridges I've climbed, for the battles I've won, and for the examples I've set, but most importantly, for the person I have become. I like who I am now, finally, at peace with me... "
― , Things A Mother Should Know: For The World's Most Important Mum
11 " Every person you meet has been assigned to play a role in your story as you are assigned to play one in someone else’s. I often say that the people we come across can be one of the four kinds. They can be like pebbles, fountains, quagmire or bridges. Pebbles are those who you meet commonly and in abundance. They do not facilitate anything great but they help you continue walking on this journey of life. Everyone you cross in life without really connecting with them are pebbles. Then there are fountains – who spring water of happiness on you. They bring positivity and joy; they nourish your soul and irrigate the seeds of good thoughts. Your friends, well-wishers are all fountains. Then, on the other end of the spectrum, you have quagmires. These are the people who cause you pain. Now, even some pebbles may have caused you pain as it happens if you tread on a barbed pebble but the difference is that quagmires do that on purpose. They pull you down, induce fear and negativity by discouraging you and worrying you. They will not let you move on – that’s why they keep you bogged down in your failures. Finally, the rarest ones are the bridges – they connect you to unchartered ground that you wouldn’t have reached on your own. They unite you to your destiny. With them, your plane of consciousness expands, you see things you have not seen before; your life becomes more aware, more enlightened. Your parents, your teachers and anyone who touches your life and transcends it into something more beautiful – they are all bridges. "
12 " Content sparks our connections with others, our own selves, and the world. What we decide to share is a powerful expression of where we stand and where we want to go. An essential part of the human spirit, this constant information sharing is what ultimately builds the bridges between us. Every image, text, sound, or video that you have released into the world carries a part of you that others can relate to. If actions reveal our priorities, the content we share explains them. "
― Laura Busche , Powering Content: Building a Nonstop Content Marketing Machine
13 " Do this exercise: Demolish the bridges of pessimism behind you. If you do this very well, you'll have no other choice than to move forward! Successful people are always optimistic! "
― Israelmore Ayivor , Daily Drive 365
14 " To build the bridges of love, extend your hands of kindness. "
15 " She lit fire to the bridges and forts she built all these years, and she walked into it smiling and tears rolling down her cheeks. "
― Akshay Vasu
16 " Elizabeth ran her finger along the windowsill, gathering dust. The view was almost exactly the same as from her own bedroom, only a few degrees shifted. She could still see the Rosens' place, with its red door and folding shutters, and the Martinez house, with its porch swing and the dog bowl. She'd heard once that what made you a real New Yorker was when you could remember back three laters -- the place on the corner that had been a bakery and then a barbershop before it was a cell-phone store, or the restaurant that had been Italian, then Mexican, then Cuban. The city was a palimpsest, a Mod Podged pileup or old signage and other people's failures. Newcomers saw only what was in front of them, but people who had been there long enough were always looking at two or three other places simultaneously. The IRT, Canal Jeans, the Limelight. So much of the city she'd fallen in love with was gone, but then again, that's how it worked. It was your job to remember. At least the bridges were still there. Some things were too heavy to take down. "
― Emma Straub , Modern Lovers
17 " I think of the friendships I've strained, the generosity I've exploited, the bridges I've torched. Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; with them, forgive yourself. There may be hope for me yet. "
― Anthony Ervin
18 " Destiny is not always preordained. Life is about making choices. Our lives are the sum of all the choices we make, the bridges we cross, and the ones we burn. Our souls cast long shadows over many people, even after we are gone. Fate, luck, and providence are the consequence of our freedom of choice, not the determinants. When justice is served by following our principles, making good decisions brings us inner peace. "
― , Adoption Detective: Memoir of an Adopted Child
19 " Although it was only six o'clock, the night was already dark. The fog, made thicker by its proximity to the Seine, blurred every detail with its ragged veils, punctured at various distances by the reddish glow of lanterns and bars of light escaping from illuminated windows. The road was soaked with rain and glittered under the street-lamps, like a lake reflecting strings of lights. A bitter wind, heavy with icy particles, whipped at my face, its howling forming the high notes of a symphony whose bass was played by swollen waves crashing into the piers of the bridges below. The evening lacked none of winter's rough poetry. "
― Charles Baudelaire , On Wine and Hashish
20 " Be a provocateur! Provoke people to think! Provoke sleepers to awake! Provoke slaves to revolt against their masters! Provoke everyone to gain control over their fates unchecked! Provoke the lonely to participate the crowds and provoke the crowds to visit the loneliness! Be a provocateur! Provoke people to cross the bridges so that they can see the other side! "
― Mehmet Murat ildan