Quotes About Contemplation

I swear I see what is better than to tell the best, It is always to leave the best untold. -from A Song of the Rolling Earth

I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me, In the day among crowds of people sometimes they came upon me, In my walks home late at night or as I lay in my bed they came upon me.

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me? (I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always drop fruit as I pass;)

Here by myself away from the clank of the world,   Tallying and talk'd to here by tongues aromatic

I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease . . . observing a spear of summer grass.

Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Ó lélek, nagynak tartod azt, ha roppant könyvek értelméig elhatolsz, És gondolattal terhesen drámákba és elméletekbe mélyedsz? De átérezni most felém trillázó boldogságod, kismadárka, Mellyel tele az ?r, elhagyatott szobám s a lassú délelÅ'tt, Ó, lélek, ez nem éppoly nagy dolog?

Te vagy az, akit gyakran és csendben fölkeresek, hogy veled lehessek, Amikor veled sétálok, vagy melletted ülök, vagy együtt maradok veled ugyanabban a szobában, Keveset tudsz arról a finom, elektromos t?zrÅ'l, ami a te kedvedért játszik bennem.

Here I sit gossiping in the early candle-light of old age—and my book—casting backward glances over our travel'd road.

I lean and loafe at my ease...observing a spear of summer grass.

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)

Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems

I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, / And accrue what I hear into myself....and let sounds contribute / toward me.

Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Solitude appeared to me as the only fit state of man.

Mankind, which in Homer's time was an object of contemplation for the Olympian gods, is now one for itself. Its self-alienation has reached such a degree that it can experience its own destruction as aesthetic pleasure of the first order.

it is well to heed the old adage—" listen to both sides of the story." Among the many reasons for this, and perhaps most important, is the fact that if everyone is against something (particularly heroin addiction), one can assume that there is something which can be said in its favor.

Thinking is like a fountain. Once it gets going at a certain pressure, well, it almost impossible to turn it off. And, my hat! what odd things come up with the water! (Out Of The Deep)

Look thy last on all things lovely Every hour…

Let me think Thinking is all I have If wisdom is a pretense Then let me pretend to be wise

He fell silent for a very long time. "But on the other hand, perhaps it's like an on-off switch," he said. "Click! And you're gone." Then he paused again and smiled slightly. "Maybe that's why I never liked to put on-off switches on Apple devices.

It should not be hard for you to look at stains on walls, or the ashes of a fire, or the clouds, or mud, and if you consider them well you will find marvelous new ideas, because the mind is stimulated to new inventions by obscure things.9

wanted instead to take a walk so that we could

That Tuesday afternoon, he kept staring into his children's eyes. At one point he looked at Patty and his children for a long time, then at Laurene, and finally gazed past them into the distance. "Oh wow," he said. "Oh wow. Oh wow." Those were his final words before he drifted into unconsciousness sometime around two that afternoon.