Quotes About Existence

The way we tend to perceive things to be does not accord with the way they are. Again, this does not nihilistically deny the fact of our experience. The existence of things and events is not in dispute; it is the manner in which they exist that must be clarified.

and die while in that mindstate.

This too is illusionlike, it is dreamlike.

With whom you've had close connections since beginningless time;

Have you ever been in a Walmart?" asked Eva. "Physically, yes. Spiritually, no.

Many of us, I suppose, see our existences not as lives, but as life-holders, zarfs, waiting for the job, the person, the event to fill it.

I don't know why they call it life, it's just a moment with memories.

The concept of time, as it's commonly understood by normal people with normal jobs and normal goddamn lives, doesn't exist on the road. The nights spread out like the dark, godforsaken highways that distinguish them, and the days run together like Thanksgiving dinner smothered in gravy. You never really know where you are or what time it is, and the outside world starts to fade away. It's cool.

Dawn makes a sound. If you listen closely right as the sun starts to come up, you'll hear it. It's like the echo of birth; silence, followed by a gentle push, moans, and then the sloppy deluge of life. On good days I like it because it reminds me that I am alive. On bad days it makes me feel like dust.

The days will always be brighter because he existed. The nights will always be darker because he's gone.

It's pretty simple, really, when you think about it: We all start out as little fishes in our daddy's pants, and we all end up a Thanksgiving feast for the worms, and in the meantime we have to find a couple good reasons to give a fuck.

It was a metaphysical perception that an end could never come to a person who was more alive than anyone I'd ever known.

I could actually see LOVE—not words, not an emotion, not an abstract concept or a subjective state of mind, but a living, breathing thing.

Because while a book, a painting, a song, a piece of pottery, a tree can outlive us, none of those things will exist forever. But love is an energy. It's infinite.

he asked me if I was happy. But before I had a chance to respond, he said, "Don't answer that. It's a stupid question. I don't believe in the myth of happiness any more than you do." This is where Paul had it wrong. I did believe in the myth. I had to. Otherwise I don't think I would have been there. Happiness is elusive, for sure. But like love, and music, I believed in it because I could feel it.

Days feel longer when you know there's something beyond the eternal here and now

Dawn makes a sound. If you listen closely, right as the sun starts to come up, you'll hear it. It's like the echo of birth: silence, followed by a gentle push, followed by moans, then the sloppy deluge of new life. On good days I like it because it reminds me that I'm alive. On bad days it makes me feel like dust.

Dawn makes a sound. If you listen closely, right as the sun starts to come up, you'll hear it. It's like the echo of birth: silence, followed by a gentle push, followed by moans, then the sloppy deluge of new life. On good days I like it because it reminds me that I'm alive. On bad days it makes me feel like dust.

Heaven is here when Time is not. To live without Time means to live without friction, with no wear and tear. That is the space of non-engagement, non-interference.

Days, weeks, months, years," said the boy. "Minutes and hours and seconds. I don't know about any of those things.

Son, are you happy? I don't mean to pry, but do you dream of Heaven? Have you ever wanted to die?

People laugh at turtles, but they're existentially unambiguous.

I've had an epiphany and decided to completely dedicate my existence to a full-court press for the truth. All else is now irrelevant. Everything in my life up to this point has been bullshit, and everything afterward will just be epilogue." "What's 'epilogue'?" "Bullshit that comes later.

The past has departed and no longer is. The future has not arrived and is yet to be. Even the present does not last, so how can it be said to exist, when it doesn't stay still for a moment?