Quotes About Existence

Mas, vendo bem, e se me é permitido um lugar-comum corriqueiro, não será que até as coisas inúteis têm cabimento neste mundo longe-de-ser-perfeito? Se desta vida imperfeita eliminássemos tudo o que é inútil, a imperfeição deixaria ela própria de fazer sentido.

I wake up, but where? I don't just think this, I actually voice the question to myself: Where am I? As if I didn't know: I'm here. In my life. A feature of the world that is my existence.

I still have that fear, even now—that suddenly my very existence will be denied and, through no fault of my own, I'll be hurled into the night sea once more. Maybe that's why I haven't been able to form deep relationships with people. I always keep a distance between me and others." He

Life: I'll never understand it.

You know what I think?" she says. "That people's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn't matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They're all just fuel.

I have to somehow get connected to reality again, he thought, or else I won't be me anymore. I'll become a man who doesn't exist.

We had been playing our assigned roles on the office stage, but stepping down from the stage, abandoning the images that we had been projecting there, we were both just unstable, awkward lumps of flesh, warm pieces of meat kitted out with digestive tracts and hearts and brains and reproductive organs.

So this is how it is," I thought. "Time just slips away.

I was living someone else's life, not my own. How much of this person I called myself was really me? And how much was not? These hands clutching the steering wheel - what percentage of them could I really call my own? The scenery outside - how much of it was real? The more I thought about it, the less I seemed to understand.

the mind is lost when the shadow dies.

Nuestra existencia es una sucesión de instantes aprisionados entre el <> que queda a nuestra espalda y la <> que tenemos delante.

I probably still haven't completely adapted to the world. I don't know, I feel like this isn't the real world. The people, the scene: they just don't seem real to me.

All I can do is live the life I have. I can't trade it in for a new one. However strange and misshapen it might be, this is it for the gene carrier that is me.

Looking at her nails, Aomame had a strong sense of what a fragile, fleeting thing her own existance was. Something as simple as the shape of her fingernails: it had been decided without her.

I may have nothing inside me, but what would something be?

perhaps our lives are merely decorative, expendable items, a burst of fleeting color and nothing more.

Back within those eyes there was a deep world, a world beyond time.

If you look at it the other way round, that's the only reason why this world is inside of me. Maybe it's a paradox, like an image reflected to infinity in a pair of facing mirrors. I am a part of this world, and this world is a part of me.

Exist? diverse moduri de a tr?i ÅŸi diferite feluri de a muri, dar nu asta conteaz?, ci faptul c? doar deÅŸertul r?mâne în urma noastr?, doar el supravieÅ£uieÅŸte.

What would be the meaning of a world that did not change when an Idea was extinguished? Can an Idea be so insignificant?

To him, they looked like shadows that his wife had left behind. Size 7 shadows of his wife hung there in long rows, layer upon layer, as if someone had gathered and hung up samples of the infinite possibilities (or at least the theoretically infinite possibilities) implied in the existence of a human being.

I don't know how to put it, but I just can't get it through my head that here and now is really here and now. Or that I am really me. It doesn't quite hit home. It's always this way. Only much later on does it ever come together. For the last ten years, it's been like this.

I think serious readers of books are 5% of the population. If there are good TV shows or a World Cup or anything, that 5% will keep on reading books very seriously, enthusiastically. And if a society banned books, they would go into the forest and remember all the books. So I trust in their existence. I have confidence.

As he watched his father, Tengo started to have doubts about the difference between a person being alive and being dead. Maybe there really wasn't much of a difference to begin with, he though, maybe we just decided, for convenience's sake, to insist on a difference.