Famous Quotes Ipsum
Word Lists: Famous Quotes
Hope has two beautiful daughters: their names are anger and courage. anger that things are the way they are. courage to make them the way they should be. change only takes place through action. it's kind of fun to do the impossible. the feeling of sunday is the same everywhere: heavy, melancholy, standing still. like when they say, 'as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be; world without end.' 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. maybe that's what bravery is, a stronger fear of not being brave..
You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. the engine that gives its mysterious inner life to a work of art must be the subterranean expression of a wish, working its way to the surface of a narrative. 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. he who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying. 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. an illiterate underbred book . . . the book of a self-taught working man . . . egotistic, insistent, raw, striking, and ultimately nauseating. 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. my understanding of truth can change from day to day, and my commitment must be to truth rather than to consistency. truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness. with our thoughts, we make the world. peace begins with a smile. the robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. there are no mistakes, no coincidences. all events are blessings given to us to learn from. too often we get scared. scared of what we might not be able to do. scared of what people might think if we tried. we let fears stand in the way of our hopes. we say no when we want to say yes. we sit quietly when we want to scream. and we shout with the others when we should keep our mouths shut. why? after all, we do only go around once. there's really no time to be afraid. just do it. i shall not die of a cold. i shall die of having lived. the very greatest mystery is in unsheathed reality itself. all things are possible until they are proved impossible - and even the impossible, may only be so as of now. every man's memory is his private literature. you know that place between sleep and awake? where you still remember dreaming? that's where i'll always think of you. i think the loneliest thing is to be alone with another person. i'd rather be by myself than with someone who has no idea who i am. to conquer loneliness we shall each have to assume the sacred responsibility of becoming a complete person. and most of all, to define ourselves without always including someone else in the definition. horror is shock, a time of utter blindness. horror lacks every hint of beauty. all we can see is the piercing light of an unknown event awaiting us. sadness, on the other hand, assumes we are in the know. the unexamined life is not worth living. what is life? it is the flash of a firefly in the night. it is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. it is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset..
Tolerating blind obedience in the name of patriotism or religion ultimately takes our lives. if the person you're talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. it may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear. everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. there are some people who read too much: the bibliobibuli. i know some who are constantly drunk on books, as others are drunk on whiskey or religion. they wander through this most diverting and stimulating of worlds in a haze, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. 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. i try to draw the line but it ends up running down the middle of me most of the time. 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. it's really a wonder that i haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. yet i keep them, because in spite of everything i still believe that people are really good at heart. i simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. all things are possible until they are proved impossible - and even the impossible, may only be so as of now. 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. the universe is made of stories, not atoms. art thou pale for weariness / of climbing heaven and gazing on earth / wandering companionless... 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.....
Generate New Ipsum
You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. the engine that gives its mysterious inner life to a work of art must be the subterranean expression of a wish, working its way to the surface of a narrative. 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. he who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying. 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. an illiterate underbred book . . . the book of a self-taught working man . . . egotistic, insistent, raw, striking, and ultimately nauseating. 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. my understanding of truth can change from day to day, and my commitment must be to truth rather than to consistency. truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness. with our thoughts, we make the world. peace begins with a smile. the robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. there are no mistakes, no coincidences. all events are blessings given to us to learn from. too often we get scared. scared of what we might not be able to do. scared of what people might think if we tried. we let fears stand in the way of our hopes. we say no when we want to say yes. we sit quietly when we want to scream. and we shout with the others when we should keep our mouths shut. why? after all, we do only go around once. there's really no time to be afraid. just do it. i shall not die of a cold. i shall die of having lived. the very greatest mystery is in unsheathed reality itself. all things are possible until they are proved impossible - and even the impossible, may only be so as of now. every man's memory is his private literature. you know that place between sleep and awake? where you still remember dreaming? that's where i'll always think of you. i think the loneliest thing is to be alone with another person. i'd rather be by myself than with someone who has no idea who i am. to conquer loneliness we shall each have to assume the sacred responsibility of becoming a complete person. and most of all, to define ourselves without always including someone else in the definition. horror is shock, a time of utter blindness. horror lacks every hint of beauty. all we can see is the piercing light of an unknown event awaiting us. sadness, on the other hand, assumes we are in the know. the unexamined life is not worth living. what is life? it is the flash of a firefly in the night. it is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. it is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset..
Tolerating blind obedience in the name of patriotism or religion ultimately takes our lives. if the person you're talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. it may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear. everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. there are some people who read too much: the bibliobibuli. i know some who are constantly drunk on books, as others are drunk on whiskey or religion. they wander through this most diverting and stimulating of worlds in a haze, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. 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. i try to draw the line but it ends up running down the middle of me most of the time. 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. it's really a wonder that i haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. yet i keep them, because in spite of everything i still believe that people are really good at heart. i simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. all things are possible until they are proved impossible - and even the impossible, may only be so as of now. 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. the universe is made of stories, not atoms. art thou pale for weariness / of climbing heaven and gazing on earth / wandering companionless... 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.....