Quotes About Existence

How true it is that the holiest saint in his humanness is a miserable sinner and a debtor to mercy and grace to the last moment of his existence

Every chemical compound, according to Engels, comes into existence only at a certain time in the development of the universe when the conditions are appropriate for it; and when it does come into existence it manifests this by entering into its characteristic relations. Neither carbon compounds or proteins are ideal forms, but are themselves witnesses of the conditions on a cooling planet. It is here that occurs his celebrated remark that life is the mode of existence of proteins.

What I want to do is to teach a lesson to all these people … I want [to prove] that the Devil exists, that the Devil reigns supreme, that the power he enjoyed in the Middle Ages has not been taken from him, for today he is the absolute master of the world.

If you believe in magic,' I (Kate) said. 'If it exists,' said Joanna, 'it doesn't matter a toss whether you believe in it or not.

Pain is truth; all else is subject to doubt.

human beings, cans of living preserves

Vivre, connaître la vie, c'est le plus léger, le plus subtil des apprentissages. Rien à voir avec le savoir." L'inconnu sur la terre

Face to the reality.

I cared not a whit whether Time were "a form of thought," or an aspect of reality, or (this was later) compoundable with Space. What I wanted to know was: How it got mixed?

Can something that does not exist be able to break? It is an interesting question." "More like the sort of question that drives an engineer crazy.

One of the most striking proofs of the personal existence of Satan… is found in the fact, that he has so influenced the minds of multitudes in reference to his existence and doings, as to make them believe that he does not exist." —WILLIAM RAMSEY

One of the most striking proofs of the personal existence of Satan is found in the fact, that he has so influenced the minds of multitudes in reference to his existence and doings, as to make them believe that he does not exist.

I can lose my hands, and still live. I can lose my legs and still live. I can lose my eyes and still live. I can lose my hair, eyebrows, nose, arms, and many other things and still live. But if I lose the air I die. If I lose the sun I die. If I lose the earth I die. If I lose the water I die. If I lose the plants and animals I die. All of these things are more a part of me, more essential to my every breath, than my so-called body. What is my real body?

It is the wholeness of living things, the dynamic energy moving from sun to plant to animal, a ceaseless flow that in the long scheme of things is far more important than mineral deposits to our future existence.

Maybe I live in what is for me the wrong time.

As Einstein himself pointed out. He said we're like people in a boat without oars drifting along a winding river. Around us we see only the present. We can't see the past, back in the bends and curves behind us. But it's there.

If we believe that we are just animals, without immortal souls, we are already but one step removed from pod people.

Why do you breathe, eat, sleep, make love, and reproduce your kind? Because it's your function, your reason for being. There's no other reason, and none needed.

You live in the same kind of grayness as the filthy stuff that formed you.

I am That, Thou art That, all this is nothing but That.

Goodness is a triumph. And so it is / with love. Love is not the part / we are born with that flowers / a little and then wanes as we / grow up. We cobble love together / from this and those of our machinery / until there is suddenly an apparition / that never existed before.

The Spirit and the Soul" The spirit dances, comes and goes. But the soul is nailed to us like lentils and fatty bacon lodged under the ribs.

You hear yourself walking on the snow. You hear the absence of the birds. A stillness so complete, you hear the whispering inside of you. Alone morning after morning, and even more at night. They say we are born alone, to live and die alone. But they are wrong. We get to be alone by time, by luck, or by misadventure. — Jack Gilbert, from "Betrothed," Collected Poems (Knopf, 2012)

We look up at the stars and they are not there. We see the memory of when they were, once upon a time. And that too is more than enough.