Quotes About Infinite

After all, the past is such a little thing, one can drown it in a drop. And the future is so big.

God is a being of transcendent and unlimited perfections: his nature therefore is incomprehensible to finite spirits.

all descriptions of God are necessarily wrong, because an infinite, timeless consciousness can have no characteristics that can be properly translated into physical terms. Love, light, and bliss come the closest.

It will, ultimately, become all that it can be; it will fulfill its potential and thereby enrich God. Every experience of every consciousness will return to the infinite intelligence from which it sprang, but transformed by having lived in and experienced the universe.

The Nature of God, what is it? Infinite and Absolute, he evades our touch; without human will, without human intelligence, without human love, where can his faculties—the very word is a misnomer—find a meeting-place with ours? Is he everything or nothing? one or many? We know not. We know nothing. Such is the conclusion into which we are driven by orthodoxy, with its pretended faith, which is credulity, with its pretended proofs, which are presumptions.

To the English majors. We may not always be practical, but we have infinite potential.

We don't have the capacity to exaggerate God's goodness. We can distort it, or even misrepresent it, but we can never exaggerate it.

All the analysis of infinite reality which the finite human mind can conduct rests on the tacit assumption that only a finite portion of this reality constitutes the object of scientific investigation, and that only it is 'important' in the sense of being 'worthy of being known.'

What we call the 'world' and the 'universe' is only one frequency range in an infinite number sharing the same space. The interdimensional entities I write about are able to move between these frequencies or dimensions and manipulate our lives.

As an SF writer, you've got the infinite toolkit of the writer at your disposal.

The idea that each one of us was astronomically lucky to have been born at all, and that complaining that our lives aren't infinite is like winning a million dollars in the lottery and complaining that we didn't win a hundred billion, or indeed all the money in the world.

Everything measurable passes, everything that can be counted has an end. Only three things are infinite: the sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water, and the heart in its tears.

If there is on earth, and among all these things of nothing, a belief worthy of adoration, if there is anything holy, pure and sublime, anything answering that immoderate desire for the infinite and the vague that we call the soul, it is art.

The mind travels more freely on this limitless expanse, the contemplation of which elevates the soul, gives ideas of the infinite, the idea?

Earth has its boundaries, but human stupidity is limitless.

Ascend skyward forever and forever,–yet thou wilt not attain the summit. Descend below the earth for billions of billions of centuries: never wilt thou reach the bottom. For there is no summit, there is no bottom; there is no Above, no Below – there is no end.

The raging desire to come to a final conclusion is one the most deadly and sterile obsessions that belong to humanity. Every religion and philosophy has made claims to its own God, to have touched the infinite, to have discovered the recipe for happiness. What pride and what emptiness! To the contrary, I see that the greatest geniuses and the greatest works don't come to final conclusions.

There is, I reflected tritely, an infinite deal of pathos in the state of an eminent person who has come down in the world.

Somewhere, out in the infinite distance, lay the spring, at least in God's mind, like babies that are not yet conceived in the mother's womb. (from The Fish can Sing)

The intellectual power is never at rest; it is never satisfied with any comprehended truth, but ever proceeds on and on towards that truth which is not comprehended. So also the will, which follows the apprehension; we see that it is never satisfied with anything finite.

Though the male can be noble in reason and infinite in faculties, he is also easily amused by shiny toys, especially ones that do dumb things on his desk.

You may travel far and wide but never will you find the boundaries of the soul.

My witness is the empty sky.

I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.