Quotes About Life

What is it about such occasions of timeless time that afterwards makes them seem touched with such a precious, melancholy sweetness? Sometimes it seems to me that it is in those vacant intervals, without my being aware of it, that my true life has been most authentically lived.

No w?a?nie, przedmioty potrafi? przetrwa?, a ?ywi tymczasem znikaj?.

Thus in the minds of the many does the one ramify and disperse. It does not last, it cannot, it is not immortality. We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in their turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations.

A wi?c, panie doktorze - odezwa?a si? troch? za g?o?no, radosnym, zdecydowanym tonem gwiazdy filmowej z lat czterdziestych - to wyrok ?mierci czy do?ywocie?

Na mi?o?? bosk?, nie histeryzuj! - odburkn??a. - Po prostu umieram, koniec kropka.

But then, at what moment, of all our moments, is life not utterly, utterly changed, until the final, most momentous change of all? We

By? mo?e caÅ'e ?ycie jest zaledwie dÅ'ugim przygotowaniem do chwili, w której siÄ™ z nim rozstajemy.

The skin of his weather-beaten face and the backs of his hands is wrinkled and brown and shiny, like shiny brown paper that had been used to wrap something unwrappable.

What are living beings, compared to the enduring intensity of mere things?

The true workers all die in a fidget of frustration. So much to do, and so much left undone.

A teraz, ju? po wszystkim, co? nowego si? zacz??o, nowego dla mnie - trudna sztuka ?ycia po ?mierci.

And my life is changed forever. But then, at what moment, of all our moments, is life not utterly, utterly changed, until the final, most momentous change of all?

Life, authentic life, is supposed to be all struggle, unflagging action and affirmation, the will butting its blunt head against the world's wall [...]

Others live for the lie of love; Echo lives for her lovely lies, loves for their livening.

Having poured my drink, I may not live to taste it, or that it may pass a live man's tongue to burn a dead man's belly; that having slumbered, I may never wake, or having waked, may never living sleep. Having heard tick, will I hear tock? Having served, will I volley? Having sugared will I cream? Having eithered, will I or? Itching, will I scratch? Hemming, will I haw?

There is no way to master the fact with which I live.

we don't know what drives and sustains us, only that we are most miserably driven and, imperfectly, sustained.

All the same, they [young, twenty-somethings] can't help feeling that the aged and even the infirm have somehow elected that condition ... or have as it were been assigned those roles ... so that they ... can play their youthful-energetic, all but immutable selves.

That anything should live, grow, evolve, reflect, respond to beauty, reproduce its kind... or make further beauty of another kind. Oh, wonderful.

Man's lot? He is by mindless lust engendered and by mindless wrench expelled, from the Eden of the womb to the motley, mindless world. He is Chance's fool, the toy of aimless Nature—a mayfly flitting down the winds of Chaos!

There is no such thing as Freedom (though it is the most important condition of human life, after Humility, -which does not exist either). There is only Slavery (walls around one) and absence-of-Slavery (ability to walk in any direction, or to remain still).

That is our 'pointed task. Love & die.

The high ones die, die. They die. You look up and who's there?

Oh better far those echoing hells Half-threaten'd in the pealing bells Than that this 'I' should cease to be—