Quotes About Experience

you only know something once you've experienced it in your life, life is our greatest test.

Cuando descubrí lo que era coger le pregunté a mi madre, con la sorpresa, la inocencia y el espanto de la infancia, si eso que me habían dicho mis amigas era cierto, si de verdad las mujeres debían dejar que los hombres «metieran su pito» dentro de una. Mi madre me miró, se tomó un instante y luego dijo: «No lo pienses así, es como cuando uno tiene hambre y come, o tiene sed y toma agua». No mencionó el amor. Ni siquiera los hijos por venir.

modo: "Lo cierto es que las catedrales no significan nada especial para mí. Nada. Catedrales. Es algo que se ve en la televisión a última hora

Uno recién sabe frente a la vida, la vida es la gran prueba de nosotros mismos.

A dor, a dilaceração, a fuga, o partir-se em mil pedaços que nunca mais voltarão a juntar-se, o olhar distante, o abandono, o abandonar-se, as cicatrizes, só podem ser narradas na primeira pessoa.

Memory is a tough place. You were there.

Did you win? he asks. It wasn't a match, I say. It was a lesson.

Memory is a tough place. You were there. If this is not the truth, it is also not a lie.

The world is wrong. You can't put the past behind you. It's buried in you; it's turned your flesh into its own cupboard. Not everything remembered is useful but it all comes from the world to be stored in you.

And as light as the rain seems, it still rains down on you.

In a taxi speeding uptown on the West Side Highway, I let my thoughts drift below the surface of the Hudson until it finally occurs to me that feelings fill the gaps created by the indirectness of experience. Though the experience is social, thoughts carry it into a singular space and it is this that causes the feelings of loneliness; or it is this that collides the feeling with the experience so that what is left is the solitude called loneliness.

You like to think memory goes far back though remembering was never recommended. Forget all that, the world says. The world's had a lot of practice.

People feel hurt when you point out the reality that forms experience because the reality is not their emotional experience.

Perhaps Mahalia, like Paul Celan, has already lived all our lives for us. Perhaps that is the definition of genius. Hegel says, "Each man hopes and believes he is better than the world which is his, but the man who is better merely expresses this same world better than the others.

You put on your glasses. The trees, their bark, their leaves, even the dead ones, are more vibrant wet. Yes, and it's raining. Each moment is like this- before it can be known, categorized as similar to another thing and dismissed, it has to be experienced, it has to be seen.

And of course you want the days to add up to something more than you came in and out of the sun and drank the potable water of your developed world--

It was a lesson.

What happens to you doesn't belong to you, only half concerns you. It's not yours. Not yours only." - Claudia Rankine (cited near the title page of 'An American Marriage")

What happens to you doesn't belong to you, only half concerns you. It's not yours. Not yours only. - Claudia Rankine (cited near the title page of 'An American Marriage' by Tayari Jones)

The world is wrong. You can't put the past behind you. It's buried in you; it's turned your flesh into its own cupboard. Not everything remembered is useful but it all comes from the world to be stored in you. Who did what to whom on which day? Who said that? She said what? What did he just do? Did she really just say that? He said what? What did she do? Did I hear what I think I heard? Did that just come out of my mouth, his mouth, your mouth? Do you remember when you sighed?

In a taxi speeding uptown on the West Side Highway, I let my thoughts drift below the surface of the Hudson until it finally occurs to me that feelings fill the gaps created by the indirectness of experience.

By landscape we also mean memory...

A c?l?tori nu pentru a ajunge, ci pentru a c?l?tori, pentru a ajunge cât mai târziu posibil, pentru a nu ajunge, dac? se poate, niciodat?.

Time is not a single train, moving in one direction at a constant speed. Every so often it meets another train coming in the opposite direction, from the past, and for a short while that past is with us, by our side, in our present.