Famous Quotes Ipsum
Word Lists: Famous Quotes
. I think night-time is dark so you can imagine with less distraction. in the artist's own experience, of course, art is fundamentally indefinable, unsayable; there is something sacred about its demands upon the soul, something inherently mysterious in the forms it takes, no less than its contents. action is eloquence. one can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar. i always give myself such very good advice, but i very seldom follow it. so much of what i see reminds me of something i read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? i sincerely hope a new generation will stand up that says: let's develop our brains and not just our bodies. girls that will say to a christina aguilera: you think you're a strong woman because you show your red thong? get a grip and put on some clothes. the writer of originality, unless dead, is always shocking, scandalous; novelty disturbs and repels. do you understand, / child, how the moon, the tide / is in our own image? truth is in the eye of the beholder. the change of life comes when you meet yourself at a crossroads and you decide whether to be honest or not before you die. if the truth were to be known, everyone would be wearing a scarlet letter of one form or another. spending time is inevitable. you're going to spend your time doing something. it might as well be something you want to do. you set up your place in my thoughts / moved in and made my thinking crowded. do, or do not. there is no "try". any job a man can do to make his way in the world is a decent job as long as he works hard and does his best. god didn't put sweat on a man's body for no reason. he put it there so he could work hard, cleanse himself and feel proud. hard workin' folks only smell bad to some folks who have nothing better to do but stick their noses in the air. question with boldness even the existence of a god; because, if there is one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blind-folded fear. there has never been an answer. there never will be an answer. that's the answer. that's the way things come clear. all of a sudden. and then you realize how obvious they've been all along. too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. nothing is really so very frightening when everything is so very dangerous. i often wonder: suppose we could begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? suppose we could use one life, already ended, as sort of a rough draft for another? i think that every one of us would try, more than anything else, not to repeat himself, at the very least he would rearrange his manner of life, he would make sure of rooms like these, with flowers and light... a man can no more diminish god's glory by refusing to worship him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell. pooh looked at his two paws. he knew that one of them was the right, and he knew that when you had decided which of them was the right, then the other was the left, but he never could remember how to begin. i mean, even the most spiritual person loves to go shopping. we don't see things as they are - we see them as we are. 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. the fact is, i was a trifle beside myself; or rather out of myself, as the french would say: i was conscious that at moment's mutiny had already rendered me liable to strange penalties and, like any other rebel slave, i felt resolved, in my desperation, to go to all lengths. both my wife and daughter think i'm this gigantic loser and they're right.
Security is mostly a superstition. it does not exist in nature...life is either a daring adventure or nothing. saturday found him for the first time strolling alone through zurich, breathing in the heady smell of his freedom. new adventures hid around each corner. the future was again a secret. we turn, not older with years, but newer every day. it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. sometimes i feel like i'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst, and then i remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and it flows through me like rain and i can feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid, little life. you have no idea what i'm talking about, i'm sure, but don't worry. you will someday. the blood jet is poetry, there is no stopping it. i am a woman committed to / a politics / of transliteration, the methodology / of a mind / stunned at the suddenly / possible shifts of meaning - for which / like amnesiacs / in a ward on fire, we must / find words / or burn it was only the first of many occasions during those months that seemed to take place out of time, or in a historical moment i had yet to identify. every now and then go away, even briefly, have a little relaxation, for when you come back to your work your judgment will be surer; since to remain constantly at work will cause you to lose power. if you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love. don't be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning ''good morning'' at total strangers. these qualities are rare enough in a world where sexual performance has become as obligatory as sexual abstinence - or the pretension to it - once was. the worst by-product of the so-called sexual revolution is the substitution of performance for passion. it's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy. there are no mistakes, no coincidences. all events are blessings given to us to learn from. it is wrong, then, to chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences (like the meeting of anna, vronsky, the railway station and death, or the meeting of beethoven, tomas, tereza, and the cognac), but it is right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life. for he thereby deprives his life of a dimension of beauty. it takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are. anyone can look for fashion in a boutique or history in a museum. the creative explorer looks for history in a hardware store and fashion in an airport. i lay down on the parched ground and looked as hard as i could at the blue sky. i wanted to feel the sheerness of space, to somehow reach what was empty and quiet, to hold what was right beyond my grasp. i mean, even the most spiritual person loves to go shopping. if you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want and all that is left is a compromise. we are governed not by armies and police but by ideas. in memory, everything seems to happen to music. it's still snowing. and freezing. however, we haven't had an earthquake lately. he who has a 'why' to live can bear almost any 'how'. if i had a formula for bypassing trouble, i wouldn't pass it around. wouldn't be doing anybody a favor. trouble creates a capacity to handle it. i don't say embrace trouble. that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. but i do say, meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it. adversity is like a strong wind. i don't mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. it also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are, and not merely as we might like to be. you'll remember me like a melody / yeah, i'll haunt the world inside you a memory without a blot of contamination must be an exquisite treasure, an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment where there is great love there are always great miracles. is not life a hundred times too short for us to bore ourselves? to look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. at last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away. leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always the love, always the hours.....
The artist's life is in his work, and this is the place to observe him. now, what was tiring had disappeared and only the beauty remained. when power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. when power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. when power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgement. i may know the word but not say it / i may know the truth but not face it / i may hear a sound, a whisper sacred and profound / but turn my head, indifferent if you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people. 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. if i can stop one heart from breaking, i will not live in vain. returning, i had to cross before the looking-glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. all looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality; and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: i thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, bessie's evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of travelers. 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. a man can no more diminish god's glory by refusing to worship him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell. it's so sweet, i feel like my teeth are rotting when i listen to the radio. surely a king who loves pleasure is less dangerous than one who loves glory. the real voyage of discovery consists not of seeking new landscapes - but of having new eyes. we shall not cease from exploration - and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started - and know the place for the first time. it is not good for all our wishes to be fulfilled; through sickness we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest. if i had a formula for bypassing trouble, i wouldn't pass it around. wouldn't be doing anybody a favor. trouble creates a capacity to handle it. i don't say embrace trouble. that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. but i do say, meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it. 'the horror of that moment,' the king went on,' i shall never, never forget!'<p> there is always a little corner which remains a secret to the world - and is only known to those two. i must pack my short life full of interesting events and creative activity. philosophy and aesthetic contemplation are not enough. i intend to do everything possible to broaden my experiences and allow myself to reach the fullest development. i always thought of myself as a house. i was always what i lived in. it didn't need to be big. it didn't even need to be beautiful. it just needed to be mine. i became what i was meant to be. i built myself a life. i built myself a house..
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Security is mostly a superstition. it does not exist in nature...life is either a daring adventure or nothing. saturday found him for the first time strolling alone through zurich, breathing in the heady smell of his freedom. new adventures hid around each corner. the future was again a secret. we turn, not older with years, but newer every day. it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. sometimes i feel like i'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst, and then i remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and it flows through me like rain and i can feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid, little life. you have no idea what i'm talking about, i'm sure, but don't worry. you will someday. the blood jet is poetry, there is no stopping it. i am a woman committed to / a politics / of transliteration, the methodology / of a mind / stunned at the suddenly / possible shifts of meaning - for which / like amnesiacs / in a ward on fire, we must / find words / or burn it was only the first of many occasions during those months that seemed to take place out of time, or in a historical moment i had yet to identify. every now and then go away, even briefly, have a little relaxation, for when you come back to your work your judgment will be surer; since to remain constantly at work will cause you to lose power. if you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love. don't be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning ''good morning'' at total strangers. these qualities are rare enough in a world where sexual performance has become as obligatory as sexual abstinence - or the pretension to it - once was. the worst by-product of the so-called sexual revolution is the substitution of performance for passion. it's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy. there are no mistakes, no coincidences. all events are blessings given to us to learn from. it is wrong, then, to chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences (like the meeting of anna, vronsky, the railway station and death, or the meeting of beethoven, tomas, tereza, and the cognac), but it is right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life. for he thereby deprives his life of a dimension of beauty. it takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are. anyone can look for fashion in a boutique or history in a museum. the creative explorer looks for history in a hardware store and fashion in an airport. i lay down on the parched ground and looked as hard as i could at the blue sky. i wanted to feel the sheerness of space, to somehow reach what was empty and quiet, to hold what was right beyond my grasp. i mean, even the most spiritual person loves to go shopping. if you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want and all that is left is a compromise. we are governed not by armies and police but by ideas. in memory, everything seems to happen to music. it's still snowing. and freezing. however, we haven't had an earthquake lately. he who has a 'why' to live can bear almost any 'how'. if i had a formula for bypassing trouble, i wouldn't pass it around. wouldn't be doing anybody a favor. trouble creates a capacity to handle it. i don't say embrace trouble. that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. but i do say, meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it. adversity is like a strong wind. i don't mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. it also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are, and not merely as we might like to be. you'll remember me like a melody / yeah, i'll haunt the world inside you a memory without a blot of contamination must be an exquisite treasure, an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment where there is great love there are always great miracles. is not life a hundred times too short for us to bore ourselves? to look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. at last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away. leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always the love, always the hours.....
The artist's life is in his work, and this is the place to observe him. now, what was tiring had disappeared and only the beauty remained. when power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. when power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. when power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgement. i may know the word but not say it / i may know the truth but not face it / i may hear a sound, a whisper sacred and profound / but turn my head, indifferent if you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people. 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. if i can stop one heart from breaking, i will not live in vain. returning, i had to cross before the looking-glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. all looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality; and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: i thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, bessie's evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of travelers. 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. a man can no more diminish god's glory by refusing to worship him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell. it's so sweet, i feel like my teeth are rotting when i listen to the radio. surely a king who loves pleasure is less dangerous than one who loves glory. the real voyage of discovery consists not of seeking new landscapes - but of having new eyes. we shall not cease from exploration - and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started - and know the place for the first time. it is not good for all our wishes to be fulfilled; through sickness we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest. if i had a formula for bypassing trouble, i wouldn't pass it around. wouldn't be doing anybody a favor. trouble creates a capacity to handle it. i don't say embrace trouble. that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. but i do say, meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it. 'the horror of that moment,' the king went on,' i shall never, never forget!'<p> there is always a little corner which remains a secret to the world - and is only known to those two. i must pack my short life full of interesting events and creative activity. philosophy and aesthetic contemplation are not enough. i intend to do everything possible to broaden my experiences and allow myself to reach the fullest development. i always thought of myself as a house. i was always what i lived in. it didn't need to be big. it didn't even need to be beautiful. it just needed to be mine. i became what i was meant to be. i built myself a life. i built myself a house..