Quotes About Depths

I compare arithmetic with a tree that unfolds upwards in a multitude of techniques and theorems while the root drives into the depths.

In snowbound, voiceless, mountain depths, to herald spring, pine trees sound in tune.

The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truths is the real wonder which the child and the artist know: magic and power lie in truth.

It's fine to sometimes use these archetypes as a conduit to get information from the depths, but I recommend that you mostly use them as a conduit to bring clarity and equanimity to the depths. Become fascinated with how they move, and less tripped out with what they mean.

In the depths of my heart I can't help being convinced that my dear fellow-men, with a few exceptions, are worthless.

In the very depths of Hell, do not demons love one another?

Los monstruos que salían de sus tumbas no son nada comparados con los que llevamos dentro del corazón.

Here life goes on, even and monotonous on the surface, full of lightning, of summits and of despair, in its depths. We have now arrived at a stage in life so rich in new perceptions that cannot be transmitted to those at another stage—one feels at the same time full of so much gentleness and so much despair—the enigma of this life grows, grows, drowns one and crushes one, then all of a sudden in a supreme moment of light one becomes aware of the "sacred." We

This book has been written to examine some of the ways love heals and helps a person to climb impossible heights and rise from immeasurable depths.

All who are capable of absorption in an inward passion must have experienced at times the strange feeling of unreality in common objects, the loss of contact with daily things, in which the solidity of the outer world is lost, and the soul seems, in utter loneliness, to bring forth, out of its own depths, the mad dance of fantastic phantoms which have hitherto appeared as independently real and living.

There is an extensive body of writing from both sides of the political aisle that has analyzed the extraordinary depths of hatred leveled at former President George W. Bush.

A alma é feita de pequenos compartimentos, uns dentro dos outros, como uma boneca russa. Se continuarmos a abrir, a abrir, acabamos por encontrar a última das bonecas. E o seu rosto nunca é como o da boneca maior.

El alma está hecha de pequeños compartimentos autocontenidos, como una muñeca rusa. Si sigues abriendo y abriendo, acabas encontrando la última de las muñecas. Y su rostro nunca es como el de la muñeca más grande. Ese último rostro puede ser mezquino y cruel.

I am fond of them, of the inferior beings of the abyss, of those who are full of longing.

Everyone's got this hidden infinity that you only get glimpses of. They're always more complex than your conception of them will allow.

The trouble with modern education is you never know how ignorant people are. With anyone over fifty you can be fairly confident what's been taught and what's been left out. But these young people have such an intelligent, knowledgeable surface, and then the crust suddenly breaks and you look down into depths of confusion you didn't know existed.

The searchlight of [God's] Spirit will probe the inner depths of your soul and reveal things that you think you have already yielded, but you have not.

Franz Kafka observed that "the truth is always an abyss. One must—as in a swimming pool—dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order later to rise again—laughing and fighting for breath—to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.

Everything ended in silence. The beasts and spirits heaved a deep breath, broke up their encirclement, and returned to the depths of a forest that had lost its heart.

She gives physical presence to the depths of the human psyche.

In this instant, shaken to her very depths, this ecstatic human being has a first inkling that the soul is made of stuff so mysteriously elastic that a single event can make it big enough to contain the infinite.

In our solitariness... great depths are sometimes sounded. Truth hideth in company.

The vestibule door opens onto a June morning so fine and scrubbed Classira pauses at the threshold as she would at the edge of a pool, watching the turquoise water lapping at the tiles, the liquid nets of sun wavering in the blue depths. As if standing at the edge of a pool she delays for a moment the plunge, the quick membrane of chill, the plain shock of immersion.

The radical Left wants control over the lives of the American people and will sink to any depths to get it.