Quotes About Experience

Even if a university should turn out to be another version of a school, I had decided I could lose myself afterwards as an anonymous particle of the London I already loved.

Oh my gosh, I'd give so much advice to a younger version of myself. I would say it really does get better as you get older. The things that mean so much, the things that seem like, you know, it's going to cause the end of the world, are all things that I've already forgotten.

My mythic version of America is very much about parents and children, and in my experience, the suburban setting is where that particular drama plays out. Which isn't to say that there aren't parents and children in cities or on farms. I just don't know them.

I was doing a play out in L.A. 20-some-odd years ago called 'Goose and Tomtom' by David Rabe, and somebody saw it and the next thing I know I'm doing the table read of the film version of 'Glengarry Glen Ross' with Al Pacino and Jack Lemmon - one of the great films of our generation.

This feeling of adventure definitely does not come from events: I have proved it. It's rather the way in which the moments are linked together.

C?rÈ›ile îns? au fost p?s?rile È™i cuiburile mele, animalele mele domestice, staulul È™i satul meu; biblioteca era lumea prins? într-o oglind?. Ca È™i ea era infinit de stufoas?, de variat?, de imprevizibil?.

we are not on the side of history made. We were, as I have said, situated in such a way that every lived minute seemed to us like something irreducible.

Thus I eat the pink as I see the sugary.

I have crossed seas, left cities behind me, followed the course of rivers or plunged into forests, always making my way towards other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men; and never was I able to turn back, any more than a record can be reversed. And all that led me—where? At this very instant, on this bench, in this translucent bubble all humming with music. And when you leave me

Meus estranhos sentimentos da outra semana me parecem hoje bastante ridículos; já não me identifico com eles.

For instance, there is something new about my hands, a certain way of picking up my pipe or fork. Or else it's the fork which now has a certain way of having itself picked up, I don't know. A little while ago, just as I was coming into my room, I stopped short because I felt in my hand a cold object which held my attention through a sort of personality. I opened my hand, looked: I was simply holding the door-knob.

Esto es lo que engaña a la gente; el hombre es siempre un narrador de historias; vive rodeado de sus historias y de las ajenas, ve a través de ellas todo lo que le sucede, y trata de vivir su vida como si la contara. Pero hay que escoger: o vivir o contar.

Lo sai, quando giocavamo all'avventuriero e all'avventuriera, tu eri quello a cui capitavano avventure ed io ero quella che le faceva capitare.

Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that's all. There are no beginnings.

This is what I thought: for the most banal even to become an adventure, you must (and this is enough) begin to recount it. This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story.

Ä°nsanlar hikâyecilikten kurtulamaz, kendi hikâyeleri ve baÅŸkalar?n?n hikâyeleri aras?nda yaÅŸar. Ba??na gelen her ÅŸeyi hikâyeler içinden görür. Hayat?n?, sanki anlat?yormuÅŸ gibi yaÅŸamaya çal???r.

At the age of twenty, without experience or advice, my mother was torn between two moribund creatures. Her marriage of convenience found its truth in sickness and mourning... Upon the death of my father, Anne-Marie and I awoke from a common nightmare. I got better. But we were both victims of a misunderstanding: she returned lovingly to the child she had never left; I regained consciousness in the lap of a stranger.

people talk a lot about this famous passing of time, but you scarcely see it. You see a woman, you think that one day she will be old, only you don't SEE her grow old. But there are moments when you think you SEE her growing old and you feel yourself growing old with her: that is the feeling of adventure.

At the same time the music was drawn out, dilated, swelled like a waterspout. It filled the room with its metallic transparency, crushing our miserable time against the walls. I am in the music.

To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June

É verdade que se pode tentar recomeçar a vida? - insiste o rapaz. Pierre e Éve entreolharam-se hesitantes e sorriem com simpatia aos jovens. - Experimentem - aconselha Pierre.

When you live alone, you even forget what it is to tell a story: plausibility disappears at the same time as friends. You let events flow by too: you suddenly see people appear who speak and then go away; you plunge into stories of which you can't make head or tail: you'd make a terrible witness. But on the other hand, everything improbable, everything which nobody would ever believe in a cafe, comes your way.

What we have to learn, we learn by doing. —Aristotle

You can't tell the reader what it means at the end. The reader has to know what it means, and feel what it means. The reader has to be there experiencing the text. —Don Murray