Famous Quotes Ipsum

We turn, not older with years, but newer every day. one of the impressive qualities of charlotte brontë's heroines, the quality that makes them more valuable to the woman reader than anna karenina, emma bovary, and catherine earnshaw combined is their determined refusal to be romantic. i have not lived as a woman. i've lived as a man. i've just done what i damn well wanted to and i've made enough money to support myself and i ain't afraid of being alone. the change of life comes when you meet yourself at a crossroads and you decide whether to be honest or not before you die. it takes two to speak truth - one to speak and another to hear. is it oblivion or absorption when things pass from our minds? what i couldn't say was that the real reason was so much deeper and harder and that we spend our lives deceiving ourselves of these real reasons, perhaps because when they are clear they are too painful. be still and know that i am god. i'll pretend this is real / 'cause this is what i like best even for me life had its gleams of sunshine. the difference between the possible and the impossible lies in a person's determination. as we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties, the inmost strength of the heart is developed. footfalls echo in the memory / down the passage we did not take / towards the door we never opened / into the rose garden a memory without a blot of contamination must be an exquisite treasure, an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment the things we forget may as well never have happened, but she had many memories, both real and illusory, and that was like living twice. she used to tell her faithful friend, the sage tao chi'en, that her memory was like the hold of the ship where they had come to know one another: vast and somber, bursting with boxes, barrels, and sacks in which all of the events of her life were jammed. awake it was difficult to find anything in that chaotic clutter, but asleep she could, just as mama fresia had taught her in the gentle nights of her childhood, when the contours of reality were as faint as a tracery of pale ink. she entered the place of her dreams along a much traveled path and returned treading very carefully in order not to shatter the tenuous visions against the harsh light of consciousness. she put as much store in that process as others put in numbers, and she so refined the art of remembering that she could see miss rose bent over the crate of marseilles soap that was her first cradle. where there is great love there are always great miracles..

Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. the stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is. it's kind of fun to do the impossible. always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or your predecessors. try to be better than yourself. i would rather be kicked with a foot than be overcome by a loud voice speaking cruel words. i would rather be kicked with a foot than be overcome by a loud voice speaking cruel words. truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness. but surely to tell these tall tales and others like them would be to speed the myth, the wicked lie, that the past is always tense and the future, perfect. and as archie knows, it's not like that. it's never been like that. you set up your place in my thoughts / moved in and made my thinking crowded. we all agree that your theory is crazy, but is it crazy enough? the heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night. it is not the answer that enlightens, but the question. when i dare to be powerful / to use my strength / in the service of my vision / then it becomes / less and less important / whether i am afraid. the cure for everything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea. i liked how sterile my room was, cleansed of all the emotions that have ever been felt there, all the fights and lovemaking and plain rest of weary travelers wiped clean, leaving no mark on the perfectly made bed. when i have a terrible need of - shall i say the word? - religion, then i go out and paint the stars. the trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat. one can go on living when one is intoxicated by life. hollywood is a place where they'll pay you 50,000 dollars for a kiss and 50 cents for your soul. in memory, everything seems to happen to music. so since i've been home, i've learned two important things: ethernet is a gift from god, and it just doesn't sound the same to listen to the indigo girls without two people singing along. i preach there are all kinds of truths, your truth and somebody else's. but behind all of them there is only one truth and that is that there's no truth. where there is great love there are always great miracles. years ago i discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down..

I would rather be kicked with a foot than be overcome by a loud voice speaking cruel words. what is unnamed, undepicted in images, whatever is omitted from the biography, censored in collections of letters, whatever is misnamed as something else, made difficult to come by, whatever is buried in the memory by the collapse of meaning under an inadequate or lying language - this will become not merely unspoken but unspeakable.... all silence has a meaning. though she be but little, she is fierce. it takes two to speak truth - one to speak and another to hear. sleeping is curiously addictive. you are part of the world, but not in it, and somehow that just seems right. it seems enough. have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? or perhaps you know the silence when you haven't the answer to a question you've been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause in a roomful of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you're all alone in the whole house? each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful, if you listen carefully. what do you experience with your first mouthful of hot fudge sundae? its not surprising that we carry it over to describe the intensity of love and sex. i must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul. her guilty conscience was as vague as original sin. there is no greater hell than to be a prisoner of fear. as to the way i've spent my money, i think it has done credit to my emotions, and i don't regret it. on occasion, i have calculated things to a very fine point, but you may well cease hoping that i will ever be practical in the accepted sense. i would sooner die. fame lost its appeal for me when i went into a public restroom and an autograph seeker handed me a pen and paper under the stall door. there is something very wonderful in music. words are wonderful enough; but music is even more wonderful. it speaks not to our thoughts as words do; it speaks straight to our hearts and spirits, to the very core and root of our souls. music soothes us, stirs us up; it puts noble feelings in us; it melts us to tears; we know not how - it is a language by itself, just as perfect, in its way, as speech, as words. as we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties, the inmost strength of the heart is developed. music is well said to be the speech of angels; in fact, nothing among the utterances allowed to men is felt to be so divine. it brings us nearer to the infinite. out yonder there is this huge world... which stands before us like a great, eternal riddle. some things are true whether you believe them or not. there is always a little corner which remains a secret to the world - and is only known to those two. the unexamined life is not worth living..