Famous Quotes Ipsum

Nothing strengthens the judgement and quickens the conscience like individual responsibility. we must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee. 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. if the path is beautiful, let us not ask where it leads. the way i see it, the men that i'm with, whoever they are, it's like look, you have to accept that i like ice cream, and i know it shows up on my hips but if you can't accept that, then leave. go away. toodles. it is non-negotiable. the longer i live the more i become convinced that the only thing that matters in literature is the writer is first of all an enchanter. poets . . . create from the very depths of the collective unconscious, voicing aloud what others only dream. do not the most moving moments of our lives find us all without words? the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n. 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. it is not the answer that enlightens, but the question. 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. feel the fear and do it anyway. 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. 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. the realization that he was utterly powerless was like the blow of a sledgehammer, yet it was curiously as well. no one was forcing him into a decision. interesting that the beliefs of others are labeled mere superstitions, mr. todd. ours we call religion. the trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat. the earth laughs in flowers. the primary and most beautiful of nature's qualities is motion. we are each of us angels with only one wing. and we can only fly embracing each other. loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty. the unexamined life is not worth living. i live my life in widening rings..

A warm smile is the universal language of kindness. destiny is not what is already made; destiny is what we are making. many people think that we are in the hands of destiny, driven in whatever direction life desires or wills, but really, we are the masters of our destiny, especially from the moment we realize this fact. man is responsible for his rise and fall. i have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws ere i'll weep. never during its pilgrimage is the spirit of man completely adrift and alone. from start to finish its nucleus is the atman - the self - luminous abiding point, boundless as the sky, indivisible, absolute, the only reality. oh help! i'd better go back. oh bother! i shall have to go on. i can't do either! oh help and bother! it is not upon you alone the dark patches fall. 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. perfection is terrible; it cannot have children. there is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go. 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. there are two ways to live your life, one is as though nothing is a miracle. the other is as though everything is a miracle..

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. if the path is beautiful, let us not ask where it leads. words do not express thoughts very well. they always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. metaphors are not to be trifled with. a single metaphor can give birth to love. sit down before fact like a little child, and be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abyss nature leads, or you shall learn nothing. the truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it. we all agree that your theory is crazy, but is it crazy enough? a warm smile is the universal language of kindness. it's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy. 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... i try to draw the line but it ends up running down the middle of me most of the time. ordinary people believe only in the possible. extraordinary people visualize not what is possible or probable, but rather what is impossible. and by visualizing the impossible, they begin to see it as possible. 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'. the flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all. one of the earliest lessons i learned as a child was that if you looked away from something, it might not be there when you looked back. it is beautiful that our lives coincided for so long. ...love is not love / which alters when it alteration finds, / or bends with the remover to remove: / o no! it is an ever-fixed mark / that looks on tempests and is never shaken... to live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never; to let the spiritual, unbidden, and unconscious grow up through the common. this is to be my symphony..