Quotes About Unity

For me, personally, the point of writing is to connect me to this world, to my fellow humans. We are all miles apart. We have no real means of connecting except via language. And the deepest form of language is storytelling.

In all chaos there is a cosmos," said Carl Jung, "in all disorder a secret order.

You are more than the sum of your particles. And that is quite a sum.

She filled in the blanks that worry and darkness had left in its wake. She was my mind-double. My life-sitter. My literal other half when half of me had gone. She covered for me, waiting patiently like a war wife, during my absence from myself.

Almost everything she had done in her life, she realised - almost everything she had bought and worked for and consumed - had taken her further away from understanding that she and all humans were really just one of nine million species.

For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love. —CARL SAGAN

Tolstoy wrote, back in 1894, in The Kingdom of God Is Within You: The more men are freed from privation; the more telegraphs, telephones, books, papers, and journals there are; the more means there will be of diffusing inconsistent lies and hypocrisies, and the more disunited and consequently miserable will men become, which indeed is what we see actually taking place.

We don't have to have tried every variety of grape from every vineyard to know the pleasure of wine. Love and laughter and fear and pain are universal currencies. ... We are as completely and utterly alive as we are in any other life and have access to the same emotional spectrum.

Mental health is intricately related to the whole body. And the whole body is intricately related to mental health. You can't draw a line between a body and a mind any more than you can draw a line between oceans.

When I am in a room with People," he wrote, "if I ever am free from speculating on creations of my own brain, then not myself goes home to myself: but the identity of everyone in the room begins to press upon me so that I am in a very little time annihilated.

A happy entanglement of warm limbs and warmer love. A physical and psychological merging that conjured a kind of inner light, a bio-emotional phosphorescence that was overwhelming in its gorgeousness.

We have never been at war with ourselves. We never place the desires of the individual over the requirements of the collective.

person was like a city. You couldn't let a few less desirable parts put you off the whole.

You were there before it. And the cloud can't exist without the sky, but the sky can exist without the cloud.

Because in one universe you have always been there. The book will never be returned, so to speak. It becomes less of a loan and more of a gift.

We only need to be one person. We only need to feel one existence. We don't have to do everything in order to be everything, because we are already infinite

A person was like a city. You couldn't let a few less desirable parts put you off the whole. There may be bits you don't like, a few dodgy side streets and suburbs, but the good stuff makes it worthwhile.

Eu sunt tu si tu esti eu. Suntem singuri, insa nu suntem singuri. Suntem prinsi in timp, dar si infiniti. Suntem facuti din carne, dar si din praf de stele.

be part of nature was to be part of the will to live.

In becoming everyone, you are becoming no one. You are forgetting your root life.

There was nothing else. Nothing but her. She was the stars and the heavens and the oceans. There was nothing but that single fragment of time, and this bud of love we had planted inside it.

Una persona è come una città. Non puoi permettere che alcune zone meno belle rovinino l'armonia del tutto. Ci possono essere posti che non ami, alcune strade secondarie e sobborghi poco raccomandabili, ma le parti belle la rendono degna di essere amata.

We have the knowledge to realise we are just a mass of quanta and particles, like everything else is, and yet we keep trying to separate ourselves from the universe we live in, to give ourselves a meaning above that of a tree or a rock or a cat or a turtle.

She felt the strangeness of being connected to the world through someone else.