Quotes About Contemplation

Padre decía que esa especulación constante centrada en la posición de unas manecillas mecánicas sobre una esfera arbitraria es un síntoma del funcionamiento mental. Excremento, decía padre, como el sudor.

la finalidad de la vida no es otra sino la de aprestarse a estar mucho tiempo muerto.

He read with a similar relaxed, long-haul attentiveness. We

You and I doctor, on the beach.

Three in the morning. Making yourself a cup of coffee in the dark, using a flashlight when you pour the boiling water.

Be quiet, darling. Let pattern recognition have its way.

Netherton said nothing, something he'd only recently been learning to deliberately do.

If only one had time to think!

Eso le hacía a uno pensar; porque pensar era algo valioso que lograba resultados...

I don't guess. I think. I ponder. I deduce. Then I decide. But I never guess.

Oh, of course she'd thought about it; every girl does from time to time.

The best kind of conversation is that which may be called thinking aloud .

And then, suddenly, an extraordinary question rose in my mind, whether this stupendous globe of green fire might not be the vast Central Sun—the great sun, round which our universe and countless others revolve. I felt confused. I thought of the probable end of the dead sun, and another suggestion came, dumbly—Do the dead stars make the Green Sun their grave? The idea appealed to me with no sense of grotesqueness; but rather as something both possible and probable.

The supreme contemporary example of such an inability to feel evil is of course Walt Whitman. His favorite occupation, writes his disciple, Dr. Bucke seemed to be strolling or sauntering about outdoors by himself, looking at the grass, the trees, the flowers, the vistas of light, the varying aspects of the sky, and listening to the birds, the crickets, the tree frogs, and all the hundreds of natural sounds.

I take it that no man is educated who has never dallied with the thought of suicide.

I needed to be alone for whatever would happen. I knew that something would as certainly as if this were a last chapter.

Remember the movements that don't look like moving.

The reading rooms were large and quiet. Their windows were filmed in dust and desiccated insects, and seemed to age the light falling across the communal tables and the volumes in scores of languages.

Gods it's well done , she thought, bowing her head, acknowledging consummate work. She felt skeins of cause, effect, effort, and interaction tying around her. She felt things all coming together, pushing her into this place, at this time, having done this thing.

These felt very much like last moments.

You'd have known that without being told if you let yourself think about it.

I CHECKED MY WATCH and glanced at the sky, which seemed resistant to morning.

The doctrine that enters only into the ear is like the repast one takes in a dream.

Take a second look... It costs you nothing.