Quotes About Existence

From those blurred and fragmentary memories we may infer much, yet prove little. We may guess that in dreams life, matter, and vitality, as the earth knows such things, are not necessarily constant; and that time and space do not exist as our waking selves comprehend them.

revolutionary suicide does not mean that i and my comrades have a death wish; it means just the opposite. we have such a strong desire to live with hope and human dignity that existence without them is impossible. when reactionary forces crush us, we must move against these forces, even at the risk of death.

Existence is violent, I exist, therefore I'm violent. . . in that way.

My opinion is that the term "God" belongs to the realm of concepts, that it is dependent upon man for its existence. If God does not exist unless man exists, then man must be here to produce God. It

While life will always be filled with sound and fury, it can be more than a tale signifying nothing.

To put it another way, God is able to interact with us in ways we interpret (through our time-bound experience of cause and effect) as the result of time-like capacities in the person or essence of God or the existence of other time-like dimensions

Everything is functioning; only man himself is not any longer.

One day, my father said there was nothing outside infinity. He said the universe was like a cardboard box with God sitting outside surrounded by light, but I wanted to know if maybe God was sitting inside another cardboard box with the light on, and how could anyone be sure how many cardboard boxes there are.

I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.

Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?

A man has to BE something; he has to matter.

Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run … but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. … History

Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era- the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be apart of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run... but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.

Admittedly, the ride can be pleasant if you don't mind the rhythmic repetition of a never-ending Maypole dance. If I came home now, I'd hit the merry-go-round at one of the annual, frenzied peaks. And, like so many others, I could forget the existence of anything but the ride: sleep-walking through the low spots, and always looking toward the next peak.

Too weird to live, too rare to die.

If you ask me, any religion that takes the end of the world as one of its central tenets is more or less bogus. In my view, the only thing that ever 'ends' is the individual.

Heaven and earth are my inner and outer coffins. The sun, moon, and stars are my drapery, and the whole creation my funeral procession. What more do I want?

In nature, the emphasis is in what is rather than what ought to be.

The Transcendent was my morning meal, we had the Eternal at lunch, and I ate a slice of the Infinite at dinner.

We are limited in joy, knowledge, and being, the three things people really want.

Our life in historical or chronological time, measuring and minding, cautious and comparing, forms the horizontal arm of the cross. Our experience of the unqualified, of inner, immeasurable time (or timelessness), is the cross's vertical pole. We live in two kinds of time or perspective simultaneously. The horizontal and the vertical are at once quite distinct and entirely overlapping, and to experience their incongruity and confluence is what it means to be human.

The word my always implies a distinction between the possessor and what is possessed; when I speak of my book or my jacket, I do not suppose that I am those things. But I also speak of my body, my mind, or my personality, giving evidence thereby that in some sense I consider myself as distinct from them as well. What is this I that possesses my body and mind, but is not their equivalent?

You can find God in the world of everyday affairs as readily as anywhere.11

In Hinduism] To find meaning in the mystery of existence is life's final and fascinating challenge. p53