Quotes About Contemplation

Jesse rounded forward under the towel and cozied his feet in the bath water. It was as if no one else were around and Jesse was once again alone and at ease with his meditations. He said, "I can't figure it out: do you want to be like me, or do you want to be me?

Contempla que todo es posible. Si de pronto te da miedo nadar muy lejos océano adentro, da la vuelta y regresa al barco. Respira. Recuerda que la belleza existe y que la verdad no existe. Nota que la idea de verdad es tan poderosa como la de belleza

Almost all of your life is lived by the seat of your pants, one unexpected event crashing into another, with no pattern or reason, and then you finally reach a point, around my age, where you spend more time than ever looking back. Why did this happen? Look where that led? You see the shape of things.

Spend a long time alone, especially if you're someone who's never been that social to begin with, and you find yourself craving solitude.

Never in her life had she thought so much about him before. Twice in two minutes!

Some people just need to read and think, to spend time alone sorting through the stories in their heads

My feet beat out a steady muffled rhythm. My thoughts participated in each step, never getting ahead of me.

I wondered if walking was not a form of dancing.

You look for thoughts and actions that reflect survival and scarcity, comparison and competition, attachment and anxiety. Notice that the question is not, "Are my thoughts . . ." which is a question of assessment, but, "How are my thoughts . . ." which is a true inquiry.

This so gnawed at him on some nights that he lay awake wondering just how many unknown and similarly inconsequential accidents and bits of happenstance were at this moment occurring or failing to occur in order to ensure he took his next breath, and the next. It gave him the sensation that he was tottering on the tip of a flagpole. He was poised on circumstance.

She turned to the window although it was dark now and the glass held only a tired ghost.

thinking with my tears. Yes, tears can be thoughts, why not?

Hildegarde stood, scratched her nose, an act for which she must later say a penance.

Immersed in the saltless broth of my existence, I tried on moods.

the reflective isolation of this year

I carefully kept myself in a cloud of unknowing.

She just said nothing. Nothing. She let the silence between them fill the air. Unlike other people, Omakayas had noticed, silence did not make Old Tallow uncomfortable. Now the warrior lady simply stood and smoked her pipe. The smoke drifted serenely in wavering fangs from each corner of her mouth. She was thinking.

In fatigue and solitude men emanate the divine.

Flowing water makes men meditative. They urinate with a sense of eternity like sailors.

A wise man looks the other way.

Etre seul, c'est s'entrainer a la mort.

Era come se in quel momento stesse contemplando al di là della sterminata pianura e oltre i vulcani l'enorme tumultuoso azzurro oceano stesso, percependolo ancora dentro il cuore: l'impazienza illimitata, la brama incommensurabile.

That was really it, her message as a nun and a child of God: listen deeply to your heart. That was how and where God communicated with people. Not so much in burning bushes or on mountaintops, in blue grottos or apparitions of the Virgin Mary, but more often in the depths of their own hearts.

the boat in