Quotes About Life

Not at all. I mean, yeah, you're weird by teenage standards. But weird in a good way. I mean, it's your life, your liver, your brain cells. It's weird not to respect choice. Whether you're choosing to get pissed or go sober, or get high on weed or chocolate, everybody's gotta make their own choices.

But... but... nobody knows where they'll end up. Nobody can play God with other people's destiny.

I know this too now: Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing, nevertheless they give up their lives to that little or nothing. One life is all we have, and we live it as we believe in living it, and then it's gone. But to surrender what you are, and live without belief—that's more terrible than dying—more terrible than dying young.

How young I seem; I am exceptional; I think of all I have. But really no one is exceptional, No one has anything, I'm anybody, I stand beside my grave Confused with my life, that is commonplace and solitary.

Really I began the day Not with a man's wish: "May this day be different," But with the birds' wish: "May this day Be the same day, the day of my life.

Oh, Tatyana, The Angel comes: better to squawk like a chicken Than to say with truth, "But I'm a good girl," And Meet his Challenge with a last firm strange Uncomprehending smile; and—then, then!—see The blind date that has stood you up: your life. (For all this, if it isn't, perhaps, life, Has yet, at least, a language of its own Different from the books'; worse than the books'.) And yet, the ways we miss our lives are life.

The ways we miss our lives are life.

The days went by for him, all different and all the same. The boy was happy, and yet he didn't know that he was happy, exactly: he couldn't remember having been unhappy. If one day as he played at the edge of the forest some talking bird had flown down and asked him: "Do you like your life" he would not have known what to say, but would have asked the bird: "Can you not like it?

The tags' chain stirs with the wind; and I sleep Paid, dead, and a soldier. Who fights for his own life Loses, loses: I have killed for my world, and am free.

Acceptance of ones' mortality is a process, not an epiphany.

useful knowledge was to be acquired only by doing, by living, by running headlong into the burning house of human experience and coming out singed and scorched, lungs full of smoke. Such knowledge would arise not during but after the experience, when you are sitting alone in the dark and re-creating everything you did and felt and assessing the wisdom or foolishness of each moment, the penalties and rewards.

Spin and die, To live again a butterfly.

Personally, I've come to believe that theories are of small value when it comes to actually living your life, to making all the hard decisions you have to make and then dealing with the consequences of those decisions.

Because poets and pretty, young things still believe in romance. They still believe that truth heals and beauty sutures. They still believe that love forestalls, deters, and turns away the tragedy that is life.

Beckett's famous existential cry at the end of The Unnamable, which he now quoted aloud, just as he had many times throughout his life: "'You must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.

and could hear her susurrus breath sounding like leaves stirring

The dreams are not torture. They often begin with an elation unlike any I have experience in life. The anguish comes on as I feel this happiness receding, and I struggle to keep it, and lost it, and grieve. Whether I weep openly each time, I don't know. But then I didn't know before how much I might show to anyone who saw me when these dreams take me.

Somehow I felt better toward him, knowing that he had possessed some instinct to fight back. It was something I needed to believe - that all men possess, somewhere, the dignity to value their own lives. If only enough to scratch the arm of the one who throws you to the wolves.

You must understand that you do have the power to change your relationships and your life, but it is likely going to be frightening at first. The alternative is to live a fairly unhappy and unsatisfying life in which fear dictates your choices and their relationships.

We can easily become as much slaves to precaution as we can to fear. Although we can never rivet our fortune so tight as to make it impregnible, we may by our excessive prudence squeeze out of the life that we are guarding so anxiously all the adventurous quality that makes it worth living.

In the clinic it is obvious that what patients believe about human nature influences their lives and problems.

Philosophy cannot convince the bullet.

I am 25 today—it is terrible to think how little time remains!

To keep one's reactions warm and true, is to have found the secret of perpetual youth, and perpetual youth is salvation.