Quotes About Boundaries

There are women out there that will add value to your life - if you keep the wrong ones out.

there are no natural borderlines in evolution. The illusion of a borderline is created by the fact that the evolutionary intermediates happen to be extinct.

Don't let what your parents do disappoint you.

This is the only badge of true friendship I'm sure of: not to be curious.

You could call it the one big box, outside which there isn't another box.

Any synthetic intelligence can be independent only within the boundaries of the U.N. regulatory charter. The charter is hardwired into my systems, so in effect I have as much to fear from the police as a human does.

The process of identifying a self inevitably involves loss as well as gain. We discover our boundaries, and those boundaries by definition separate us from our fellows. As we clarify our perceptions, we lose our misconceptions. As we eliminate ambiguity, we lose illusion as well. We arrive at clarity, and clarity creates change.

Many of us find that we have squandered our own creative energies by investing disproportionately in the lives, hopes, dreams, and plans of others. Their lives have obscured and detoured our own. As we consolidate a core through our withdrawal process, we become more able to articulate our own boundaries, dreams, and authentic goals. Our personal flexibility increases while our malleability to the whims of others decreases. We experience a heightened sense of autonomy and possibility.

When you are feeling depreciated, angry or drained, it is a sign that other people are not open to your energy. SANAYA ROMAN

Be careful to safeguard your newly recovering artist. Often, creativity is blocked by our falling in with other people's plans for us. We want to set aside time for our creative work, but we feel we should do something else instead. As blocked creatives, we focus not on our responsibilities to ourselves, but on our responsibilities to others. We tend to think such behavior makes us good people. It doesn't. It makes us frustrated people.

Para ser realmente inmortal, una obra de arte debe escapar de todos los límites humanos: la lógica y el sentido común sólo interfieren. Pero una vez se han roto estas barreras, entrará en los reinos de las visiones y de los sueños de la infancia». GIORGIO DE CHIRICO

Many of us find that we have squandered our own creative energies by investing disproportionately in the lives, hopes, dreams, and plans of others.

Snipers are people who undermine your efforts to break unhealthy relationship patterns.

Be particularly alert to any suggestion that you have become selfish or different. (These are red-alert words for us. They are attempts to leverage us back into our old ways for the sake of someone else's comfort, not our own.)

Cuando te sientes depreciado, enfadado o exhausto es señal de que los demás no están abiertos a tu energía». SANAYA ROMAN

A la ira hay que escucharla. La ira es una voz, un grito, un ruego, una exigencia. A la ira hay que respetarla. ¿Por qué? Porque la ira es un mapa . La ira nos muestra dónde están nuestros límites. Nos marca a dónde queremos ir. Nos permite ver dónde hemos estado y nos hace saber cuándo no nos ha gustado.

If a mother somehow thinks she deserves to know everything, then she will have to know things that keep her up at night, won't she?

In those days, we imagined ourselves as being kept in some kind of holding pen, waiting to be released into our lives. And when the moment came, our lives -- and time itself -- would speed up. How were we to know that our lives had in any case begun, that some advantage had already been gained, some damage already inflicted? Also, that our release would only be into a larger holding pen, whose boundaries would be at first undiscernible.

We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

Or perhaps it's that same paradox again: the history that happens underneath our noses ought to be the clearest, and yet it's the most deliquescent. We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

the history that happens underneath our noses ought to be the clearest, and yet it's the most deliquescent. We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

In those days, we imagined ourselves as being kept in some kind of holding pen, waiting to be released into our lives. And when that moment came, our lives—and time itself—would speed up. How were we to know that our lives had in any case begun, that some advantage had already been gained, some damage already inflicted? Also, that our release would only be into a larger holding pen, whose boundaries would be at first undiscernible.

When I first began to write, I laid myself the rule [...] that I should write as if my parents were dead. (Page 108, US edition)

the imagination's first duty was to be transgressive