Quotes About Search

The greatest songwriting is never conclusive, but the search for conclusion

I have made it a rule never to deny a false report, except under very exceptional circumstances. In nine cases out of ten the denying of the report simply calls attention to the original statement in a way to magnify it. Many people who did not see the original false report will see the denial and will then begin to search for the original report to find out what it was.

She wasn't tracking down her father to learn more about him. She was tracking him down to learn more about herself.

Her life hadn't just taken detours or even gone off the rails. It was as though the rails had vanished beneath her. A person needs answers. A person needs them to make some kind of sense. They

She had spotted three of them, at the very least. Probably more. She had also spotted the B&T Paint van. She'd dialed the number on the van's sign, but it was out of service. She checked with directory assistance. There was no B&T Paint. They

water cascading down her back, across her thighs, cool against her belly, her head laid back and white water bubbling through the shining black veil of her hair, touching each strand, silkily shining it with moisture; her eyes closed in simple pleasure; that face, the right face, the special face, the certain face of the woman he had always looked for without looking, hunted silently for, without acknowledging the search; lusted for, without feeling worthy of the hunger.

Und er ging auf die Suche nach dem Wahnsinnigen, der seinen Namen in Großbuchstaben schrieb.

Maybe he doesn't have anywhere to run off to...

Those things gave us enough, more than enough, for a search warrant. One of those steel-ram, siren blaring, you're-so-totally-fucked raids that every copper loves more than anything, me included.

You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you.

Find me now. Before someone else does.

So I made up my mind I was going to find someone who would love me unconditionally three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Watanabe: Wow, and did your search pay off? M: That's the hard part. I guess I've been waiting so long I'm looking for perfection. That makes it tough.

Most people are not looking for provable truths. As you said, truth is often accompanied by intense pain, and almost no one is looking for painful truths. What people need is beautiful, comforting stories that make them feel as if their lives have some meaning. Which is where religion comes from.

What I was chasing in circles must have been the tail of the darkness inside me.

When the time comes, everybody's got to end up where they belong. Only me, I didn't have a place to call my own. It's like musical chairs.

Your problem is that your shadow is a bit - how should I put it? Faint. I thought this the first time I laid eyes on you, that the shadow you cast on the ground is only half as dark as that of ordinary people… What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow

she was beautiful and seemingly quite intelligent, what with her pentameter search system. There wasn't a reason in the world not to find her appealing.

Truth is often accompanied by intense pain, and almost no one is looking for painful truths

Khi b?t ??u Ä'i tìm nh?ng l?i bi?n há»™, ng??i ta s? gi? mãi cái thái Ä'á»™ Ä'ó su?t c? ??i

I seriously believed I could escape myself–as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What's missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I'm still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I'll come to defining myself.

I sometimes wish I could go off in search of something," he declared, "but before getting even that far, I myself wouldn't have the slightest idea what to search for. Now my father, he's someone who's been searching for something all his life. He's still searching today. Ever since I was a little boy, my father's told me about the white sheep that came to him in his dreams. So I always thought that's what life is like. An ongoing search.

Do you really think you can read out my mind? she asks me, face to face. I think so, I say, wishing to convince myself. There has to be a way. It is like looking for lost drops of rain in a river. You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, than believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this. I believe you, she whispers after a moment. Please find my mind.

He had no itch to dig for glories Deep in the dirt that time has laid.

I couldn't for the life of me figure out how long a person had to live, or how good she had to be, to get her hands on some treasure.