Famous Quotes Ipsum

Word Lists: Famous Quotes

The individual is born of nature, but the artist is born of that individual, yearning to transcend the merely "natural" and to make complete that which, existentially, is forever incomplete, unrealized. the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. talking with you is sort of the conversational equivalent of an out of body experience. 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 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. the fear of death follows from the fear of life. a man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. we don't say everything that we could / so that we can say later / "oh, you misunderstood" i look upon death to be as necessary to the constitution as sleep. we shall rise again refreshed in the morning. for tomorrow may rain, so i'll follow the sun. the trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat. under every deep, a lower deep opens. great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion. the form of government most suitable to the artist is no government at all. surely a king who loves pleasure is less dangerous than one who loves glory. perfection is terrible; it cannot have children. little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune, but great minds rise above it. the earth laughs in flowers. you'll remember me like a melody / yeah, i'll haunt the world inside you your mind might make a connection that is useful. but true is another matter. true implies that you have found a connection that exists independent of your apprehension of it, that would exist whether you noticed it or not. and i must say that i have never seen such a connection in my life. there are times when i suspect that there are no such connections, that all links, bonds, ties, and similarities are creatures of thought and have no substance. i know that a life without love is no life at all. doubt thou the stars are fine / doubt that the sun doth move / doubt truth be a liar / but never doubt i love. a pain stabbed my heart as it did every time i saw a girl i loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world. art thou pale for weariness / of climbing heaven and gazing on earth / wandering companionless... 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. all sanity is great madness, but the greatest madness of all is to live life the way it is, rather than as it should be..

Do not follow where the path may lead. go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. 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 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 the opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth. 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. is it oblivion or absorption when things pass from our minds? 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. why do we kill people who kill people to show that killing people is wrong? how pleased can one sun setting make you if you humble yourself to it? how grateful can you really say that you are just to be here and live through it? 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. 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. a memory without a blot of contamination must be an exquisite treasure, an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment art thou pale for weariness / of climbing heaven and gazing on earth / wandering companionless... a life of self-indulgence, if led with a whole heart, may also bring a certain wisdom. no man's life is ordinary to himself..

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. a ship in a harbor is safe - but that is not what ships were made for. we turn, not older with years, but newer every day. lolita is famous, not i. i am an obscure, doubly obscure, novelist with an unpronounceable last name. a day is a miniature eternity. be content with what you have, rejoice in the way things are. when you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you. the choice may have been mistaken - the choosing was not. he who has a 'why' to live can bear almost any 'how'. what is to give light must endure burning. the street corner where always, for years, in passing you felt, unexplained, a pang of despair, like nausea, till one night, late, late, on that spot you were struck, struck still, and again felt how her head had thrust to your shoulder..
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