Quotes About Life

But you will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life,' he said, wisely.

According to science, you start off as coal and you end up as coal. Maybe that was the real life lesson

Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself.

On both sides of her family there had been an unspoken belief that life was meant to fuck you over.

Places are places and memories are memories and life is fucking life.

We navigate life by making decisions that maximize pleasure and/ or minimize pain.

Wife: I want to have a child. Husband: I can't imagine bringing a child into this messed-up world. Wife: That's exactly the reason we should do it. We need to bring something good into this world to balance out the bad.

Whatever it is you want out of life, make a decision and a commitment first and then work out the how. If you think doubt in your head, you find doubt in the world.

Some would look at Emily's life and think that a child born with Down's syndrome has little hope for a meaningful life. Throw in the diagnosis of leukemia and that little hope turns into no hope whatsoever. I disagree. Emily's life, with all its imperfections, had great meaning. Because of how many people she touched, I realize that we are far more than what we can accomplish. We are the very thumbprints of God.

As a writer of worship songs, I have a hunger to write deep songs of passionate reverence to God. Yet I'm aware I cannot sing before I have seen. All worship is a response to a revelation--it's only as we breathe in more of the wonders of God that we can breathe out a fuller response to Him....the key to a life of passionate and powerful worship comes from seeing God.

no medicinal fix we contrive will lead us to live forever. "There is no ultimate solution. There is no free lunch. If you cure cancer, you will have more cases of neurodegenerative disease. If you cure neurodegenerative disease, a major plague will come for people who are a hundred years old. There is no ultimate solution, nor should there be.

Sometimes we cannot control our world and hold it too tightly without squeezing some of the life from it.

The genome is a book that wrote itself, continually adding, deleting and amending over four billion years.

The genome that we decipher in this generation is but a snapshot of an ever-changing document. There is no definitive edition.

Life is a slippery thing to define, but it consists of two very different skills: the ability to replicate, and the ability to create order.

George sat on his porch, and drank his Coke and made daydreams out of the rain. He wondered about the book he would write this year, and he wondered - not too desperately - whether love would find him at last and let him rest for a time. But he smiled all the while he was thinking about it, because at the core he was happy enough just to be alive and watching the storm, and this one thing made him special.

And you never know when a meal will be your last . . . None of us do.

Maybe life is part of a greater series of interconnections, subtlely guided by an underlying transtemporal panpsychic awareness. Stranger still, we may be just scintillating illusions, extrapolated from deeper realities.

And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me and let the dead bury their dead.

One thing only has been lent to youth and age in common - discontent.

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.

Is it so small a thing To have enjoyd the sun, To have lived light in the spring, To have loved, to have thought, to have done; To have advancd true friends, and beat down baffling foes?

Dreams dawn and fly: friends smile and die, Like spring flowers. Our vaunted life is one long funeral. Men dig graves, with bitter tears, For their dead hopes; and all, Mazed with doubts, and sick with fears, Count the hours.

We count the hours: these dreams of ours, false and hollow, Shall we go hence and find they are not dead?