| Author Index |
|
Browse quotes by the author's last name
|
| Popular Quotes |
I think and think for months, for years. Ninety-nine times the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right. - Albert EinsteinChildren are the world's most valuable resource and its best hope for the future. - John F. KennedyIt ain't those parts of the Bible that I can't understand that bother me, it's the parts that I do understand. - Mark TwainMy words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words without thoughts never to heaven go. - William Shakespeare |
|
Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. A war regarded as inevitable or even probable, and therefore much prepared for, has a very good chance of eventually being fought. It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it. I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy. Violence is a symptom of impotence. Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. [Families] are made to make you forget yourself occasionally, so that the beautiful balance of life is not destroyed. What I cannot love, I overlook. I cannot concentrate all my friendship on any single one of my friends because no one is complete enough in himself. There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person. She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself. When one is pretending the entire body revolts. Beware of allowing a tactless word, rebuttal, a rejection to obliterate the whole sky. One must be thrust out of a finished cycle in life, and that leap is the most difficult to make-to part with one's faith, one's love, when one would prefer to renew the faith and recreate the passion. To change skins, evolve into new cycles, I feel one has to learn to discard. If one changes internally, one should not continue to live with the same objects. They reflect one's mind and psyche of yesterday. I throw away what has no dynamic, living use. One must be thrust out of a finished cycle in life, and that leap is the most difficult to make-to part with one's faith, one's love, when one would prefer to renew the faith and recreate the passion. I don't tell the truth any more to those who can't make use of it. I tell it mostly to myself, because it always changes me. She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself. People living deeply have no fear of death. I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing. There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest. Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. I was thinking of my patients, and how the worst moment for them was when they discovered they were masters of bad or good luck. When they could no longer blame fate, they were in despair. There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic. When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others. Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing. What I cannot love, I overlook. |
| Quote of the Day |
|
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words without thoughts never to heaven go. |
|