Quotes About Contemplation

This was as good a spot to try a little meditation on the shape of the universe as I was likely to find, so I settled in, loosened my suit up a bit, and made myself comfortable.

I didn't reach out. I just…sat still. Held to myself. And let the universe come to me.

Outside, the folded sky of white space-and my time as a free person (was I a free person?)-whisked silently by.

He sipped his drink, made a thinking noise, and rubbed a spatulate fingertip across his annoyingly well-formed nose.

Sebastien lay with closed eyes and listened to the silent, cool pressure of the couch, more an absence than a presence. It was as if a ghost lay down beside him. He knew without looking that David would be leaned on one elbow, studying Sebastien over the narrow bridge of his nose.

Poley rested his knuckles on his lips, the image of a fighting cock.

Since we do float on an unknown sea, I think we should examine the other floating things that come our way carefully; who knows what may depend on it?

Screen porch in a tree.

How—I didn't know any word for it—how "unlikely". . . How had I come to be here, like them, and overhear a cry of pain that could have got loud and worse but hadn't?

I believe in the oblique, the indirect approach and I keep my feelings to myself.

Think of the long trip home. Should we have stayed home and thought of here? Where should we be today?

By habit, she looked round the room she sat in. Anything she could do to it had been done; what it could do to her seemed without limit.

Did Anna also, sometimes not know what to do next? Because she knew what to do next, because she knew what to laugh at, what to say, did it always follow that she knew where to turn? Inside everyone, is there an anxious person who stands to hesitate in an empty room?

There is a solitude, which each and every one of us has always carried with him, more inaccessible than the ice-cold mountains, more profound than the midnight sea; the solitude of self. Our inner being, which we call ourself, no eye nor touch of man or angel has ever pierced.

We sat in silence, both of us looking up at the stars. He was probably envisioning a machine headed for Pluto. I wished i was on that machine.

This was the hour she loved; this lonely hour when the others were distant in sleep and she was alone in the house; when she could cry if she wanted to, or curse, or sit at her work and think or remember and no longer be anything but herself. There is a latitude to late night, when one's thoughts dare to travel, and the emotions are free, no longer frightened by confinement.

Mine is just a simple old human story - of one person trying, with great rigor and discipline, to comprehend her personal relationship with divinity.

He sat for a long time and thought to himself that he wished he knew how to pray, yet he knew, untaught, how by abandonment of himself to let the quietness take hold of him.

After almost a lifetime spent in prayer and contemplation she had believed that at least she had her thoughts well disciplined, but as one got older, one's hard-won control slipped a little and one felt sometimes as though spiritually one were back again in one's youth, with all the battles to fight again.

I think best in a hot bath, with my head tilted back and my feet up high.

Alone, without the looking-glass of another person's presence, the mirrors of the imagination sometimes effect cunning distortions. By

Sull'aeroplano ci sentiamo membri di un organismo gigantesco: tutto sotto di noi si fa piccolo, maneggevole e lezioso come un giocattolo, finché ogni cosa si scioglie in una distanza indistinta sotto di noi e la nostra casa diventa il cielo, che ci appare pieno di dettagli e di cose da osservare.

I'm a woman who loves words, but there are times there are no words.

The day was so lovely that, to Flora, it seemed possible to leave only if it was impossible to stay. She tried to imagine leaving. She imagined that her body was asking her to leave. She