Quotes About Existence

By definition, soul evades the cage of definition. It is the indefinable essence of a person's spirit and being. It can never be touched and yet the merest hint of its absence causes immediate distress.

Being after, being alongside, being near [près] would appear as different modes of being, indeed of being-with.

Hell is a place on earth. Heaven is a place in your head.

What I feel is the momentary shock of realizing that most of the wood, metal and plastic fixtures, the sinks, lampshades, the shower stall, and even the drinking cups will all outlive me if my body follows the same progression that this tiny invisible-to-the-eye virus has initiated.

The zombie looks like a man, walks like a man, eats and otherwise functions fully, yet is devoid of the spark. It represents the nagging doubt that lays deep in the heart of even the most zealous believer: behind all of your pretty songs and stained glass, this is what you really are. Shambling meat. Our true fear of the zombie was never that its bite would turn us into one of them. Our fear is that we are already zombies.

John, let me make one thing clear," Jim said, cutting me off in his most stern, evangelical voice. "Every man is blessed with his gifts from the Lord. One of mine happens to be a penis large enough that, if it had a penis of its own, my penis' penis would be larger than your penis."..... ..."Fuck all of you," John retorted. "You don't even exist. We're all just a figment of my cock's imagination.

I wanted to curl up into a fetal position and start sucking my thumb, let my tears and dripping saliva pool under me. Sorry. I tried living, tried being sentient. Can't do it. Can't live in the same universe with that.

They came looking for dark and terrible revelations and instead found out something even more dark and terrible: that their lives were trite and boring.

A cockroach has no soul. Yet it runs and eats and shits and fucks and breeds. It has no soul, yet it lives a full life. Just like you.

the whole world [is]a big, noisy puppet show meant to distract us from the fact that at the end, you'll die, and you'll probably be alone.

Fuck all of you," John retorded. "You don't even exist. We're all just a figment of my cock's imagination.

Here's what's going to happen: You're going to die and you're going to stand at the gates of judgement and you're going to ask God what was the meaning of it all, and God will say, 'I created the universe, you little shit. It was up to YOU to give it meaning'.

A realization washed over her in that cold, dark space: this was how virtually all living things born on earth have died—with teeth tearing through their muscle and bones. We humans have computers and soap and houses but it doesn't change the fact that everything that walks is nothing but food for something else.

Our true fear of the zombie was never that its bite would turn us into one of them. Our fear is that we are already zombies.

You'll know that humans aren't cut out for anything. We cut ourselves out. Slowly, with a rusty knife. Because otherwise, here's what's going to happen: you're going to die and you're going to stand at the gates of judgment and you're going to ask God what was the meaning of it all, and God will say, 'I created the universe, you little shit. It was up to you to give it meaning.

you're going to die and you're going to stand at the gates of judgment and you're going to ask God what was the meaning of it all, and God will say, 'I created the universe, you little shit. It was up to you to give it meaning.

humans aren't cut out for anything. We cut ourselves out. Slowly, with a rusty knife. Because otherwise, here's what's going to happen: you're going to die and you're going to stand at the gates of judgment and you're going to ask God what was the meaning of it all, and God will say, 'I created the universe, you little shit. It was up to you to give it meaning.

here's what's going to happen: you're going to die and you're going to stand at the gates of judgment and you're going to ask God what was the meaning of it all, and God will say, 'I created the universe, you little shit. It was up to you to give it meaning.

My next novel will be the third volume in the John Dies at the End series, and in fact may already exist, again depending on when you're reading this.

You don't even exist. We're all just a figment of my cock's imagination.

Since agape love is sacrificial love, and since it needs no reciprocation, the love of God constrains our natural reactions which cause so many of our conflicts. To love is to be set free. To love is to act as an agent of the Holy Spirit and not react to circumstances and people. To love is to enter a place of existence which causes us to be unshackled from the fears and frustrations which dominate this world.

The deep structure of the universe is pure consciousness.

It is both mysterious and miraculous that roughly the same intelligence necessary to flake a barbed spearpoint is sufficient to discover the theorems of mathematics. In a different universe, it might have been otherwise. And so human beings would have been spared the tragedy of existing half as ape and half as god.

If there is no true creation then there is no true reality. If nothing is real, then man is not real; man in some fundamental sense does not exist. Reality is all a dream, and worse, it is less than a dream because even a dream must have a dreamer to dream it. To