Quotes About Life

Czy ludzie niecierpliwi nie przypominaj? duchów, które nigdy nie s? tu, w tym miejscu, i teraz, w tej w?a?nie chwili, ale wystawiaj? g?ow? z ?ycia jak ci w?drowcy, którzy podobno, gdy znale?li si? na ko?cu ?wiata, wyjrzeli poza horyzont.

It's clear that the largest things are contained in the smallest. There can be no doubt about it. At this very moment, as I write, there's a planetary configuration on this table, the entire Cosmos if you like: a thermometer, a coin, an aluminum spoon and a porcelain cup. A key, a mobile phone, a piece of paper and pen. And one of my grey hairs, whose atoms preserve the memory of the origins of life, of the cosmic Catastrophe that gave the world its beginning.

Nie ma tu nikogo, Bóg stworzy? ?wiat i umar? z wysi?ku.

Historie ?ycia nie s? tematem do dyskusji. Powinno si? ich wys?ucha? i zrewan?owa? si? tym samym.

People think they live more intensely than animals, than plants, and especially than things. Animals sense that they live more intensely than plants and things. Plants dream that they live more intensely than things. But things last, and this lasting is more alive than anything else.

Imagination is essentially creative; it is a bridge reconciling matter and spirit. Especially when it is done intensely and often. Then the image turns into a drop of matter, and joins the currents of life. Sometimes along the way something in it gets distorted and changes. Therefore, if they are strong enough, all human desires come true — but not always entirely as expected.

It is widely known, after all, that real life takes place in movement.

What is life, after all if not dancing on graves?

I realized that sorrow is an important word for defining the world. It lies at the foundation of everything, it is the fifth element, the quintessence.

Reality has grown old and gone senile; after all, it is definitely subject to the same laws as every living organism—it ages.

He saw it. Not in front, or behind him, just somewhere out in the darkness. It was huge and powerful. The whiteness of its fur gleamed in the light of the snow. 'Wolf, in the name of the Polish border I beg you to spare my life,' he said into the darkness. The wolf stopped behind him, wondering.

People are built like houses inside- they have stairwells, spacious halls, vestibules that are always too weakly lit to count the doors into the rooms, row upon row of apartments, damp chambers, slimy, tiled bathrooms with cast-iron baths, steps with handrails taut as veins, artery-like corridors, joint-like landings, passages, guest rooms, draughty chambers into which a sudden current of warm air flows, closets, twists and turns and cubby-holes, and larders full of forgotten supplies.

But why should we have to be useful and for what reason? Who divided the world into useless and useful, and by what right? Does a thistle have no right to life, or a Mouse that eats the green in a warehouse? What about Bees and Drones, weeds and roses? Whose intellect can have had the audacity to judge who is better, and who worse?

Infants and old people look the same.

La morte implica la privazione del diritto al movimento, perché la vita è movimento. Il corpo ucciso smette di muoversi. L'uomo è un corpo.

Dressing the dead man was like a form of caress. I doubt he ever experienced such tenderness in life.

leven, het is een vreemd leven als men 's ochtends terugkeert naar wat men 's avonds heeft achtergelaten

Mert minél tisztább, minél élesebb a tudat, annál több benne a rettegés. (...) Ha nem tudunk róla, hogy létezünk, megszabadulunk az id?t?l és a haláltól.

My life's harvest is not the building material for anything, neither in my time, now, nor in any other, never.

It has to do instead with the presentiment men have at every moment of their lives, a foreboding adamantly hushed and hidden—that left to their own devices, in the dull, quiet company of passing time, they would atrophy faster. As though they'd been designed for a brief spurt of intensity, a high-stakes race, a triumph and, immediately afterward, exhaustion

She often reflected on how her life had turned out, and she was coming to the conclusion that the truth was simple: men needed women more than women needed men.

To be impatient means never really living, being always in the future, in what will happen, but which is after all not yet here. Do not impatient people resemble spirits who are never here in this place, and now, in this very moment, but rather sticking their heads out of life like those wanderers who supposedly, when they found themselves at the end of the world, just looked onward, beyond the horizon? What did they see there? What is it that an impatient person hopes to glimpse?

What a joy it is in life when you happen to have a clean, warm kitchen.

I'd started to put on my boots, but that terrible gray morning alarmed me. Sometimes I feel as if we're living inside a tomb, a large, spacious one for lots of people. I looked at the world wreathed in gray Murk, cold and nasty. The prison is not outside, but inside each of us.