Quotes About Existence

What she liked was simply life. 'That's what I do it for', she said, speaking aloud, to life.

Van, ahogy van, a dolog most már valahogy biztos csakugyan van.

All this pitting of sex against sex . . . all this claiming of superiority and imparting of inferiority, belong to the private-school stage of human existence where there are 'sides,' and it is . . . of the utmost importance to walk up to a platform and receive from the hands of the Headmaster himself a highly ornamental pot.

How could any Lord have made this world? she asked. With her mind she had always seized the fact that there is no reason, order, justice: but suffering, death, the poor.

Es mucho más fácil matar a un fantasma que a una realidad.

Até os homens e as mulheres parecem ter encolhido, tornaram-se numerosos e diminutos ao invés de únicos e substanciais.

But if there are no stories, what end can there be, or what beginning?

Ista nas zvezda u istom radijusu drži. Na osnovu istih zakona bacamo senke. Pokušavamo nešto da saznamo, svako na svoj na?in, a i ono što ne znamo zajedni?ko nam je. Kako znam i umem, objasni?u, samo pitajte: šta je to gledati o?ima, zašto mi srce kuca i zbog ?ega moje telo nije pustilo korenje. Ali kako odgovarati na nepostavljena pitanja, ako si uz to neko za vas veoma ništavan.

Religion and that newer science of the spirit, psychology, have met and are beginning to find common ground as we search for and find the answers to what it means to be human. From these two sciences of the spirit is emerging a new vision of humanity and human potential which shows that to live in harmony with and to understand the spiritual aspect of our humanity is fundamental to human existence and happiness.

Monstrously Remote: "Whenever I start thinking of my love for a person, I immediately draw radii from my love—from my heart, from the tender nucleus of a personal matter—to monstrously remote points of the universe… the dreadful pitfalls of eternity, the unknowledgeable beyond the unknown, the helplessness, the sickening involutions and interpenetrations of space and time." – Speak Memory (1966)

Life is a great surprise. I do not see why death should not be an even greater one.

The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.

For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.

Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.

Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.

A thousand years ago five minutes were Equal to forty ounces of fine sand. Outstare the stars. Infinite foretime and Infinite aftertime: above your head They close like giant wings, and you are dead.

Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me; try to discern the doe in me, trembling in the forest of my own iniquity; let's even smile a little. After all, there is no harm in smiling.

The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness. Although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for.

I do not know if it has ever been noted before that one of the main characteristics of life is discreteness. Unless a film of flesh envelopes us, we die. Man exists only insofar as he is separated from his surroundings. The cranium is a space-traveler's helmet. Stay inside or you perish. Death is divestment, death is communion. It may be wonderful to mix with the landscape, but to do so is the end of the tender ego.

If I correctly understand the sense of this succinct observation, our poet suggests here that human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece.

And blood-black nothingness began to spin. A system of cells interlinked, within cells interlinked, within cells interlinked within one stem. And dreadfully distinct against the dark, a tall white fountain played.

What surprises you in life? The marvel of consciousness -- that sudden window swinging open on a sunlit landscape amidst the night of non-being.

I am surrounded by some sort of wretched specters, not by people. They torment me as can torment only senseless visions, bad dreams, dregs of delirium, the drivel of nightmares and everything that passes down here for real life.

I shall continue to exist. I may assume other disguises, other forms, but I shall try to exist.