Quotes About Experience

Las palabras no se parecen a las cosas que designan (Maurice Merleau-Ponty)

Skin is soft; it takes what you do to it.

I swam in dangerous waters, both metaphorically and literally. It was not so much that I didn't value my existence but more that I had an insatiable desire to push myself to embrace all that it could offer.

Foreign experiences increase both cognitive flexibility and depth and integrativeness of thought

She walks slowly. She wants to feel the prick, the push of every bit of gravel under her shoe. She wants to feel every scratch, every discomfort of this....her leaving walk.

What I wish I had known, age twenty-one, as I cycled away from the results board towards the meadow by the river in Cambridge, where I would throw stones into the water and cry, is that nobody ever asks you what degree you got. It ceases to matter the moment you leave university. That the things in life which don't go to plan are usually more important, more formative, in the long run, than the things that do.

She grows up, too, with the memory of what it meant to be properly loved, for what you are, not what you ought to be.

Coming so close to death as a young child, only to resurface again into your life, imbued in me for a long time a brand of recklessness, a cavalier or even crazed attitude to risk. It could, I can see, have gone the other way, and made me into a person hindered by fear, hobbled by caution. Instead, I leapt off harbour walls. I walked alone in remote mountains. I took night trains through Europe on my own, arriving in capital cities in the middle of the night with nowhere to stay.

What I wish I had known, aged twenty-one, as I cycled away from the results board towards the meadow by the river in Cambridge, where I would throw stones into the water and cry, is that nobody ever asks you what degree you got. It ceases to matter the moment you leave university. That the things in life which don't go to plan are usually more important, more formative, in the long run, than the things that do.

I still crave the mental and physical jolt of being somewhere new, of descending aeroplane steps into a different climate, different faces, different languages.

Professor Adam Galinsky, an American social psychologist who has studied the connection between creativity and international travel, says that 'Foreign experiences increase both cognitive flexibility and depth and integrativeness of thought, the ability to make deep connections between disparate forms.'1

Not for the first time, it strikes her that she will never feel that again, that it is an experience now closed to her, at her age, at her stage in life. The loss of that possibility sears her sometimes: it is hard for a woman to let go of; harder still if another woman in your household is just entering that state. The sight of this girl's stomach, every time, makes Mary think of the emptiness, the quiet of her own.

It will lie at her very core, for the rest of her life.

After he had sailed around the Mediterranean in 1869, Mark Twain said that travel was 'fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness'.

the time I spent in hospital is the hinge on which my childhood swung.

En aquel momento no se lo conté a nadie, ni a mis amigos ni a mi familia: no encontraba la manera de traducir lo sucedido a gramática y sintaxis.

Pregnancy is getting company inside one's skin.

that experience of getting it wrong that makes me know what's right.

You will look like an enthusiastic child telling his parents about the new things he is learning at school, and I'm positive the experience will be unforgettable for you as it was for me.

Whether your writing is for personal journals or for publication, there are aspects we all share as writers.

Memories are like layers of your skin or layers of paint on a canvas.

I got the travel bug when I was quite young. My parents took me and my sisters out of school and we travelled all over Europe. It was an eye-opening experience and, although I love Norway, I also enjoy visiting new countries. I don't get homesick.

And you became like the coffee, In the deliciousness, and the bitterness and the addiction.

There is no name for what life should be, except what you did and what you do to my soul.