Quotes About Life

I once asked her, after reading a Dixie cup riddle, "What's worse than finding a worm in an apple?" The cup's answer was "Finding half a worm in an apple." My grandma Rosie's answer? "Having someone shove an umbrella up your tuchis . . . and then open it.

Our ability to surrender in life is directly related to the amount of peace and fulfillment we experience.

Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering—because you can't take it all in at once. AUDREY HEPBURN

Don't follow your passion, but always bring it with you.

The funeral home might be McInerney's, which has matchbooks that bear a poem beginning, "Bring out the lace curtains and call McInerney, I'm nearing the end of life's pleasant journey.

When you establish a reminiscing routine through acknowledging gratitude for past experiences, it keeps you mindful that fun is abundant. Put into practice, reminiscing in this manner mitigates feelings of regret and deprivation by giving you a concrete prompt to fully appreciate life's pleasurable experiences. A habit of acknowledging the pleasure in your life naturally increases your overall sense of gratitude, amplifying fun's positive effects.

I know I'm going to blow one day. My life is doomed the way it is. I have no future.

Another thing that freaks me out is time. Time is like a book. You have a beginning, a middle and an end. It's just a cycle.

Work gives you meaning and purpose, and life is empty without it." Stephen Hawking

If life was fair, we'd get treated the way the we treat others and if life was fair, we'd get paid exactly what we are worth. And in the end, we'd all get exactly what we deserve. So, son, maybe it's better if life isn't fair. Sometimes I'm thankful that life isn't fair.

Thence results, for science as well as for industry, the necessity of the division and association of labor. I receive and I give - such is human life. Each directs and is directed in his turn.

People dance at any age.

Dancing is my obsession. My life.

Working is living to me.

And what remains for us to do, my friends? When life is such a dismal pit, it must be left behind without delay! My friends, let us all go and drown ourselves! Look out of the window, at the river! It beckons us to come!

Yes, man is mortal, but that would be only half the trouble. The worst of it is that he's sometimes unexpectedly mortal—there's the trick!

One day we took each other by the hand and went for a walk in the evening. And we walked like that for our whole life.

Out of life's storm I carried only a few ideas - and not one feeling.

I was lying, but I wanted to rouse him. I have an inborn urge to contradict; my whole life has been a mere chain of sad and futile opposition to the dictates of either heart or reason. The presence of an enthusiast makes me as cold as a midwinter's day, and, I believe, frequent association with a listless phlegmatic would make me an impassioned dreamer.

Life is much richer and more complex than even the most perfect plans to make it better. It ultimately takes vengeance for attempts to impose abstract schemes, even with the best of intentions. Perestroika has made us understand this about our past, and the actual experience of recent years has taught us to reckon with the most general laws of civilization.

And over the village slipped the days, passing into the nights; the weeks flowed by, the months crept on, the wind howled, and glassified with an autumnal, translucent, greenish-azure, The Don flowed tranquilly down to the sea.

In broad daylight it's terrible for a man to face his death; but when you're asleep it ought to be easy enough....

When swept out of its normal channel, life scatters into innumerable streams. It is difficult to foresee which it will take in its treacherous and winding course. Where today it flows in shallows like a rivulet over sandbanks, so shallow that the shoals are visible, tomorrow it will flow richly and fully.

The grass grows over the graves, time overgrows the pain. The wind blew away the traces of those who had departed; time blows away the bloody pain and the memory of those who did not live to see their dear ones again—and will not live, for brief is human life, and not for long is any of us granted to tread the grass.