Quotes About Experience

Les Étais soutiennent la Maison Jusqu'à ce que la Maison soit achevée Puis les Étais se retirent Et adéquate, droite, La Maison se tient seule Et ne se souvient plus Du Foret et du Charpentier - Telle est exactement l'expérience rétrospective D'une Vie accomplie - Un Passé de Planche et de Clou Et de lenteur - puis tombent les échafaudages Et s'affirme une Âme -

But she and Death, acquainted

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.

And dip your fingers in the frost:

Es un raro placer que nos ahorma hallar un viejo libro con la ropa que usaba en aquel tiempo, creo que un privilegio. Cogerle de la mano venerable, calentarla en la nuestra y dar un paso o dos hacia el pasado, al tiempo en que era joven.

It burned me in the night, It blistered in my dream;

To pile like Thunder to its close, Then crumble grand away, While everything created hid — This would be Poetry: Or Love, — the two coeval came — We both and neither prove, Experience either, and consume — For none see God and live.

Perhaps this was the point of travel, keeping bits of daily life to ground us while feeling also altogether stretched at the wideness of the world.

The mind-blowing, ridiculous sex which was the stuff of both poetry and porn - so unlike anything else I had ever experienced before.

She wonders what fool ever said that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all - she has never disagreed with something so much.

Grief is a mystery to be lived through, not a problem to be solved

I realize thirty is just a number, that you're only as old as you feel and all that. I also realize that in the grand scheme of things, thirty is still young. But it's not that young.

Because Marian was the love of my life. For a long time. And that's the kind of information you share when you're young and stupid and hoping that you're in something that is going to be even bigger and better than what you once lost. It's the kind of shit you waste your time thinking about. Lemme tell you -- it does no good.

I know that the problem isn't the dream per se. It was the way I felt afterward, once awake.

Much later, she would go back and read the entry, and think to herself that memories were that way, too. When you wanted to forget, everything would return in raw, brutal focus. When you wanted to remember, the details would slip away like a dream at dawn.

Of course she knows that I will not join her. I have never danced on a bar. I wouldn't know what to do up there besides fall.

He was just the wrong guy for me at the time. Nothing more, nothing less.

Don't go giving this encounter any crazy meaning like you did with him the first time around. It doesn't mean a thing. Not a thing. Sometimes, in life, there is no meaning at all.

It occurred to me that few things tell the story of a woman's life like her closet

grocery lists. That was back when I thought my

I don't trust memory, anyway. Why should I? Memories, however undependable, ought to be the stuff on the sand when the tides of experience recedes. As long as they're part of that process, there's something valid about them, something that ties them to real life.

Me and Ma have a deal, we're going to try everything one time so we know what we like.

She gets sick of things fast, it's from being an adult.

In Room me and Ma had time for everything. I guess the time gets spread very thin like butter all over the world, the roads and houses and playgrounds and stores, so there's only a little smear of time on each place, then everyone has to hurry on to the next bit....