Quotes About Existence

London is on the whole the most possible form of life.

Apologies, Mrs. Touchett intimated, were of no more use to her than bubbles, and she herself never dealt in such articles. One either did the thing or one didn't, and what one would have done belonged to the sphere of the irrelevant, like the idea of a future life or of the origin of things.

She existed in that view wholly for the small house in Chelsea; the moral of which moreover, of course, was that the more one gave oneself the less of one was left. There were always people to snatch at one, and it would never occur to them that they were eating one up. They did that without tasting.

We must feel everything, everything we can. We are here for that.

How in the world--when what is such knowledge but suffering?

Spiritual age is determined by the acts which make the mornings and evenings of the soul, and not by the motions of the physical globe. The soul should have its own cycles and revolutions, presenting in turn every portion of its existence to the vivifying influence of the great source of light.

One went through the vain motions, but it was mostly a waste of life.

The world as it stands is no illusion.

much matter what you do in particular so long as you have your life.

Sex is one of the nine reasons for reincarnation. The other eight are unimportant

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

Things happen or they don't happen, that's all. Nothing is accomplished by sweat and struggle. Nearly everything which we call life is just insomnia, an agony because we've lost the habit of falling asleep. We don't know how to let go. We're like a Jack-in-the-box perched on top of a spring and the more we struggle the harder it is to get back in the box.

The most wonderful opportunity which life offers is to be human.

We are dancing in the hollow of nothingness. We are one flesh, but separated like stars.

The worst is not death but being blind, blind to the fact that everything about life is in the nature of the miraculous. The language of society is conformity; the language of the creative individual is freedom. Life will continue to be a hell as long as people who make up the world shut their eyes to reality.

And there is a time, glorious too in its own way, when one scarcely exists, when one is a complete void. I mean, when boredom seems the very stuff of life.

Day by day. No yesterdays and no tomorrows. The barometer never changes, the flag is always at half-mast.

The world around me is dissolving leaving here and there spots of time. The world is a cancer eating itself away.

Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown...

We are swimming on the face of time and all else has drowned, is drowning, or will drown.

the art of living involves the act of creation. The work of art is nothing. It is only the tangible, visible evidence of a way of life, which, if it is not crazy is certainly different from the accepted way of life... For the artist to attach himself to his work, or identify himself with it, is suicidal.

One thing is certain, that when you die and are resurrected you belong to the earth and whatever is of the earth is yours inalienably. You become an anomaly of nature, a being without shadow; you will never die again but only pass away like the phenomena about you.

I was alive. But I was alive without a memory, without a name; I was cut off from hope as well as from remorse or regret. I had no past and would probably have no future; I was buried alive in a void which was the wound that had been dealt me. I was like the wound itself.

We create our fate every day that we live.