Quotes About Contemplation

be missing her. He had to be thinking

The minds of some human beings are as moles, grubbing in the earth for worms. They have no eyes to see God's sky with the stars in it.

If you would keep your soulFrom spotted sight or sound,Live like the velvet mole;Go burrow underground.And there hold intercourseWith roots of trees and stones,With rivers at their source,And disembodied bones.

He looked calmer somehow. It wasn't peace of mind he had found, but maybe a new deliberation.

Maybe some people, like art, were better appreciated at a distance.

Everyone is silent.

My soul has gained the freedom of the night.

Each play worth seeing should be watched a second time on the faces of the audience.

began to think there was a good deal to be said for

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes, The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries, And daub their natural faces unaware.

Earth's crammed with Heaven, But only he who sees, takes off his shoes.

We went to our separate corners to muse, and mope, and stare thoughtfully out the viewports.

She blinked, and considered and slicked her whiskers against her face in contemplation.

A huge, lonely melancholy welled up inside me as the sheer enormousness of what I was contemplating. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, exactly, so I let it inside.

What can I say? We're slow.

Riel considered Elspeth, and was considered in turn.

He let her have the silence while she selected her words.

Bad enough to be here, doing this. Worse to have to stop and think about it.

I could have tuned myself into sleep, but I had an idea that if I stared into space and tried not to think about the things that were currently bothering me, I might be giving my subsconscious time to work on the problem.

The wine was finished; the night's conversation drifted into sitting and dozing, watching the night.

He tried to feel the meaning of the words, speak them with passion nonetheless. If this was what he was inspired to, then he would not believe he had been inspired wrong. And it wrong to simply intone the Scholar-God's arguments. They must be…internalized. Considered. Spoken as if they lived and breathed and were each day argued anew, not as if they lay dead and dusty in some tomb.

His voice held wonder and worry when he spoke at last.

Truth, but not very much of it, suitable for paddling your toes in.

She stroked her chin with a thumb and a forefinger. No wonder people were staring; the effect was distracting.