Quotes About Contemplation

I always think about the past, it's so large and bright.

I cannot tell if the day; is ending, or the world, or if; the secret of secrets is inside me again.

She had a glass of Bushmills in one hand and a glass of Bacardi in the other because she was still at that stage of working out what to have for her first drink.

Se pasó todo el trayecto pensativo, contemplando la noche por la ventanilla... Se había enamorado.

Il ne lui répondit qu'une seule fois: 01:16 silence Voulait-il dire: fin du service, paix, calme, ou voulait-il dire: boucle-la?

continue, stared down at her feet. Her companion's

One needs occasionally to stand aside from the hum and rush of human interests and passions to hear the voices of God.

I received the grace of shadows. The grace of remaining in the dark. - From A Nest of Quiet: A Notebook

I write in order to comprehend, not to express myself.

My poems are more my silence than my speech. Just as music is a kind of quiet. Sounds are needed only to unveil the various layers of silence.

At this still hour the self-collected soul Turns inward, and beholds a stranger there Of high descent, and more than mortal rank; An embryo God; a spark of fire divine, Which must burn on for ages, when the sun (Fair transitory creature of a day!) Has clos'd his golden eye, and wrapt in shades Forgets his wonted journey thro' the east.

Is there not A tongue in every star that talks with man, And wooes him to be wise? nor wooes in vain; This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.

The dead of midnight is the noon of thought.

My eyes are an ocean in which my dreams are reflected.

We sit in silence, drinking hot chocolate and contemplating the act that death is a monstrous affront to the living and shouldn't be allowed.

For the first time back then, I thought about everything seriously. The past and the future, both equally unknowable, and also this ongoing situation that the consulates call "transitory" but that we know in everyday language as "the present.

I didn't write. I just wandered about.' Martha Gelhorn, novelist and journalist

Really? Brilliant. Thanks, Don.' 'Listen. If you're coming up, leave it for at least an hour or two,

Loneliness sends you into your body instead of your brain.

Remote and oblivious and lost in contemplation.

Sometimes I ask lots of people the same question." His head hurt. "What do you do if you don't get the same answer?" "Think about it.

I was thinking of something that made me unhappy." Simon stopped snarling and cocked his head, looking more baffled than angry. "Why would you do that?

For a moment, Meg couldn't think, could barely breathe as a drawing of a cow with arrows pointing to the various cuts of meat popped into her head. Then she imagined a drawing of a human with the same kinds of arrows. Could there be a sign like that in the butcher shop?

"Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on Nothing but Meditation?