Quotes About Contemplation

What I suffered in contemplating his happiness, pen cannot describe.

I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead.

We don not think, in the holy places; we think in bed, afterwards, when the glare, and the the noise, and the confusion are gone, and in fancy we revisit alone, the solemn monuments of the past, and summon the phantom pageants of an age that has passed away.

Not a sparrow falls to the ground without His seeing it. But it falls, just the same. What good is seeing it fall?

He lay down upon a sumptuous divan, and proceeded to instruct himself with honest zeal.

Cada vez que te encuentres del lado de la mayoría, es momento de hacer una pausa y reflexionar -Mark Twain-

Whenever you are popular just pause and see the reflect

What a robust people, what a nation of thinkers we might be, if we would only lay ourselves on the shelf occasionally and renew our edges!

We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened.

Toda vez que você se encontrar do lado da maioria, é hora de parar e refletir.

My pipe was ready and would have been lit, if I had not been lost in thinking

Mirar está al alcance de cualquier holgazán necesitado de un corte de pelo.

You can find in a text whatever you bring, if you will stand between it and the mirror of your imagination. You may not see your ears, but they will be there. HUNTING

seemed like a vast warty bug taking a meditative walk.

What a robust people, what a nation of thinkers we might be, if we would only lay ourselves on the shelf occasionally and renew our edges! I

Ilekro? znajdziesz siÄ™ po stronie wiÄ™kszoÅ›ci zastanów siÄ™ przez chwilÄ™.

Kendini çoÄŸunluÄŸun taraf?nda bulduÄŸun an, durup düÅŸünmenin vakti gelmiÅŸ demektir.

The ruminations are mine, let the world be yours.

Your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay.

motionless, finally, after how many hours, how many days, at a loss where to go. All directions leading to the same place anyway. Its own end.

Kept for that moment when I'm certain nothing's left.

eyes wild with a cascade of internal reckonings, lips acting out some unintelligible discourse . . .

Here then—the aftermath of meaning.

His eyes remain fixed on a horizon that is both empty and meaningless.