Quotes About Contemplation

This sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart, was something I had not experienced with any other woman.

The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself which to turn into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction.

As it is I crawl on everyday towards the tomb. When I wake in the morning I think first of death, do you?

It is the long still moment of dreamy suspended passion before the spinning clutching descent.

I lit another cigarette and wondered distantly how I would get through the day. It was a problem demanding some ingenuity.

As for me — there is another partner waiting for me, a teacher whom I knew long ago — his name is solitude. I am glad to be back here among my English friends . . . But I shall come back here to an empty flat and close the door, and I shall lean back against the door, as I recall I used to when I was young, and breathe deeply and feel the deep relief and liberation of coming home to solitude, coming home to myself .

Could one think so intensely of someone and not be visited?

She thought, I am becoming a recluse. Yes, that's it, that is the way.

David, que se disponía a correr su cortina contra el oscuro crepúsculo, se detuvo y clavó la vista en el jardín. El chico estaba de pie bajo la acacia, en la parte más cercana de la verja que separaba el jardín de Hood House del huerto. La figura estaba tan quieta y

David, que se disponía a correr su cortina contra el oscuro crepúsculo, se detuvo y clavó la vista en el jardín. El chico estaba de pie bajo la acacia, en la parte

Enormous vistas of thought were unrolling in my mind.

At the very thought he felt a tendency to tremble.

And she looked at her life and seemed to understand it and to grieve over it as if it were already over.

Her solemn face of a Hebrew angel regarded me, ready, stripped of expression.

Religion is having an intense attitude and no time off... religion is about those awful deep things.

Then she thought, is this really all I have to look forward to, is this what I have to comfort myself with?

What is God anyway? A dark place —

One must constantly meditate upon the absurdities of chance, a subject even more edifying than the subject of death.

Could she endure it, the long vigil of death made visible?

One should never tell anything to somebody who won't think about it right. Or is this too timid a doctrine?

You have sometimes thought of going back? Yes, I have, but only in a fantasy way.

There were many people . . . who can live neither in the world nor out of it. They are a kind of sick people, whose desire for God makes them unsatisfactory citizens of an ordinary life, but whose strength or temperament fails them to surrender the world completely; and present-day society, with its hurried pace and its mechanical and technical structure, offers no home to these unhappy souls. Work, as it now is, . . . can rarely offer satisfaction to the half-contemplative.

Is that a quotation? Only from me.

Was it that he had lived too long in his mind and was tired of the scenery?