Famous Quotes Ipsum

Nothing strengthens the judgement and quickens the conscience like individual responsibility. change only takes place through action. do not follow where the path may lead. go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. why do some people always see beautiful skies and grass and lovely flowers and incredible human beings, while others are hard-pressed to find anything or any place that is beautiful? all good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath. truth is in the eye of the beholder. my understanding of truth can change from day to day, and my commitment must be to truth rather than to consistency. weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless. 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. smile at each other, smile at your wife, smile at your husband, smile at your children, smile at each other -- it doesn't matter who it is -- and that will help you to grow up in greater love for each other. do the thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain. 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. the soul is an emanation of the divinity, a part of the soul of the world, a ray from the source of light. it comes from without into the human body, as into a temporary abode, it goes out of it anew; it wanders in ethereal regions, it returns to visit.... it passes into other habitations, for the soul is immortal. all religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree. all these aspirations are directed toward ennobling man's life, lifting it from the sphere of mere physical existence and leading the individual towards freedom. let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life. it is not upon you alone the dark patches fall. can't say fairer than that. i mean, even the most spiritual person loves to go shopping. under every deep, a lower deep opens. what is to give light must endure burning. i am young. i am younger each year at the first snow. when i see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving; then i am in love again and very young and i believe everything. christ is in the manger and santa in heaven. a wizard is never late. nor is he early. he arrives precisely when he means to. i know that a life without love is no life at all. when christ said: "i was hungry and you fed me," he didn't mean only the hunger for bread and for food; he also meant the hunger to be loved. jesus himself experienced this loneliness. he came amongst his own and his own received him not, and it hurt him then and it has kept on hurting him. the same hunger, the same loneliness, the same having no one to be accepted by and to be loved and wanted by. every human being in that case resembles christ in his loneliness; and that is the hardest part, that's real hunger. neurosis is the way of avoiding non-being by avoiding being..

Art teaches nothing but the significance of life. security is mostly a superstition. it does not exist in nature...life is either a daring adventure or nothing. mostly, we authors must repeat ourselves--that's the truth. we have two or three great moving experiences in our lives--experiences so great and moving that it doesn't seem at the time that anyone else has been so caught up and pounded and dazzled and astonished and beaten and broken and rescued and illuminated and rewarded and humbled in just that way ever before. though she be but little, she is fierce. a single sun shines here and in the land where i was born, though we call it by different names. in the realm of idea, the great principles behind the forms that we see are the same. it's at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. i don't know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind. i wish i believed, as j. b. priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while. three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around. perhaps that's why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it! a "bad night" is not always a bad thing. simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. her guilty conscience was as vague as original sin. it is not the answer that enlightens, but the question. is it oblivion or absorption when things pass from our minds? it's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy. early in the novel that tereza clutched under her arm when she went to visit tomas, anna meets vronsky in curious circumstances: they are at the railway station when someone is run over by a train. at the end of the novel, anna throws herself under a train. this symmetrical composition - the same motif appears at the beginning and at the end - may seem quite 'novelistic' to you, and i am willing to agree, but only on condition that you refrain from reading such notions as 'fictive', 'fabricated', and 'untrue to life' into the word 'novelistic'. because human lives are composed in precisely such a fashion. great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion. 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. most of the dandelions had changed from suns to moons. i love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. everybody loves a hero / an image to create / the antithesis of everything / inside ourselves we hate / but you'd better close your eyes / when it's time for them to die / because you'd hate to think the life you'd built upon them was a lie it's like you come onto this planet with a crayon box. now, you may get the 8-pak, or you may get the 16-pak, but it's all in what you do with the crayons--the colors-- that you're given. now don't worry about coloring inside the lines or outside the lines. i say, color outside the lines! color right off the page!.

Words do not express thoughts very well. they always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. 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. in languages that form the word 'compassion' not from the root 'suffering' but from the root 'feeling', the word is used in approximately the same way, but to contend that it designates a bad or inferior sentiment is difficult. the secret strength of its etymology floods the word with another light and gives it a broader meaning: to have compassion (co-feeling) means not only to be able to live with others' misfortune but also able to feel with him any emotion - joy, anxiety, happiness, pain. this kind of compassion therefore signifies the maximal capacity of affective imaginations, the art of emotional telepathy. in the hierarchy of sentiments, then, it is supreme. it's awfully hard to be b-b-brave when you are only a very small animal. i have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws ere i'll weep. it takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are. 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... keep your face to the sunshine, and you cannot see the shadows. listening four or five times a day to newscasters and commentators, reading the morning papers and all the weeklies and monthlies - nowadays this is described as 'taking an interest in politics'. st. john of the cross would have called it indulgence in idle curiosity and the cultivation of disquietude for disquietude's sake. 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's still snowing. and freezing. however, we haven't had an earthquake lately. when you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you. they took all the trees / and put them in a tree museum / and they charged all the people / a dollar and a half just to see 'em / don't it always seem to go / that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone / they paved paradise / and put up a parking lot 'the horror of that moment,' the king went on,' i shall never, never forget!'<p> 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..