Quotes About Existence

Eventlessness has no post to drape duration on.

Çok zaman?m oldu düÅŸünecek. Sana bir ÅŸey sormak istiyorum. En son çirkinlikten öncesini hat?rlayam?yorum. Çok güzel miydi Samuel? Senin gözünde güzeldi, çünkü sen kurmuÅŸtun onu. Bence sen onu hiç görmedin, kendi yarat?n? gördün sadece.

Kar??mda nadasa b?rak?lm?? koskoca bir arazi duruyor, yan?mda da nadasa b?rak?lm?? koskoca bir adam. Ä°sraf gibi geliyor bana. Ä°srafa gücüm yetmediÄŸi için de kötü bir his verir. Hayat?n? nadasa b?rakmak iyi bir his mi?

Maybe that's what ghosts are

Well, tell me. You see, there's a responsibility in being a person. It's more than just taking up space where air would be. What

And all of them were caught in something larger than themselves.

Who am I? This or the other? Am I one person today and tomorrow another? Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others, And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling? . . . Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine. Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!2 Bonhoeffer's question "Who am I?

Days, pale slices between nights, they blend, not exactly alike, transparencies so lightly tinted that only stacked all together do they darken to a fatal shade.

You have a life and there are these volumes on either side that go unvisited; some day soon as the world winds he will lie beneath what he now stands on, dead as those insects whose sound he no longer hears, and the grass will go on growing, wild and blind.

Life. Too much of it, and not enough. The fear that it will end some day, and the fear that tomorrow will be the same as yesterday.

Man is a mechanism for turning things into spirit and turning spirit into things.

This life is the one to be lived now, that much is crystal-clear. What did Thoreau supposedly say—'One world at a time'?

Actuality is a running impoverishment of possibility.

Chaos is God's body. Order is the Devil's chains.

Yes, well, years. Some die young; some are born old.

The reel of your real life unwound only once.

A jelen a paradicsom, ám az agyunk nem engedi, hogy sokáig éljünk benne.

God save us from ever ending, though billions have./ The world is blanketed by foregone deaths,/ small beads of ego, bright with appetite,/ whose pin-sized prick of light winked out,/ bequeathing Earth a jagged coral shelf/ unseen beneath the black unheeding waves.

Also ist mein Sohn ein Simpel.' In einer Hinsicht. Aber der größte Teil der Menschheit ist so. Weil es sonst zu schwer zu ertragen ist, Mensch zu sein. Im Gegensatz zu den Tieren wissen wir zu viel. Sie, die anderen Tiere, wissen gerade genug, um ihren Job zu machen und zu sterben. Um zu essen, zu schlafen, zu vögeln, Babys zu kriegen und zu sterben.

We all rather live under wraps, don't we? We hardly ever really open ourselves to the loveliness around us. Yet there it is, every day, going on and on, whether we look at it or not. Such a splendid waste, isn't it?

Weeds don't know they're weeds.

Ogni cosa sotto il cielo finisce, e se si ritiene che la temporalità ne infici il valore, allora nulla che sia reale ottiene mai il successo.

About being mortal- I suppose it affects different people in different ways, but for me there's never been a thinning out. Being alive, no matter how sick I feel, feels absolute. You're absolutely alive and when you're not you'll be absolutely something else.

as if in the pre-dawn, before light begins to lift edges into being.