Quotes About Experience

Sciences may be learned by rote, but wisdom not.

I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, 'Tis all barren!

The feather put into his cap of having been abroad.

"Our armies swore terribly in Flanders," cried my uncle Toby—"but nothing to this."

What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within the span of his little life by him who interests his heart in everything.

Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other.

What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this little span of life by him who interests himself in everything.

j'ai songé alors que ce qui est violent, ce n'est pas le temps qui passe, c'est l'effacement des sentiments et des émotions. Comme s'ils n'avaient jamais existé.

The children had never been to a museum before. "Will it be like school?" they wanted to know. "Will it be like church? Or like shopping or going to a picnic?" "A little of all those things," said Celeste. "This museum is a building filled with works of art.

What a ridiculous sentiment. 'Adventures' is just a different name for 'terrible ideas.

Give a girl a boyfriend and she becomes a total expert on relationships

Het trage, tropische voortslenteren, de manier van lopen van de flaneur, is de beste manier om een land te leren kennen. Ik lees, ik schrijf en ik voel hoe het land langzaam in mij doorsijpelt - haast is fataal voor de reiziger.

Ik had wel duizend levens en ik nam er maar één.

En doordat ik met haar ben meegegaan, heb ik gezien hoe haar gezicht veranderde.

Kummer hat etwas in den Linien deines Gesichts zu suchen, nicht in deiner Erinnerung.

What made something precious? Losing it and finding it.

He pushed her in. And then he pulled her out. All her life, Lydia would remember one thing. All his life, Nath would remember another.

It's too late. He's already learned how not to drown.

grown up surrounded by a kind of resigned cynicism,

But she herself had never felt that way about anyone, not as a teenager, not in art school, not since. It occurred to her that except for her brother, when they were children, she'd never seen a man naked. More than that: she'd never touched anyone and felt that warmth, that electric tension at the nearness of someone else. The only thing that had given her that feeling had been art—and then, of course, Pearl.

Izzy had the heart of a radical, but she had the experience of a fourteen-year-old living in the suburban Midwest. Which is to say: she cast about for ideas for exacting revenge -- egged windows, flaming bags of dog shit -- and chose the best thing in her limited repertoire.

In her experience, when someone tried to do something for her, it came from either pity or distrust, but this simple gesture felt like what it was: a small kindness, with no strings attached.

In kindergarten, he had learned how to make a bruise: you pressed it over and over with your thumb. The first time it hurt so much your eyes watered. The second time it hurt a little less. The tenth time, it was barely an ache. So he read the note again and again. It didn't stop hurting. His eyes didn't stop watering.

Each year they learn the same thing, just in bigger words.