Quotes About Existence

Since the initial publication of the chart of the electromagnetic spectrum, humans have learned that what they can touch, smell, see, and hear is less than one-millionth of reality.

I live on Earth at present, and I don't know what I am. I know that I am not a category. I am not a thing — a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process – an integral function of the universe.

Life is a sexually transmitted disease and there is a 100% mortality rate.

Perhaps God is not dead; perhaps God is himself mad.

I wouldn't mind dying — it's the business of having to stay dead that scares the shit out of me.

The reason I could never be an atheist is because when they get together they have literally nothing to talk about.

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. (Psalm 90:2)

But lately I have learned what it is to be human. Learned, but not understood. It seems to involve a great deal of misery crammed into a very short lifetime." His

De la existencia de Casiano, descubridor teológico del octavo pecado capital, la tristitia , o aburrimiento, me enteré tardíamente gracias a Giorgio Agamben, autor de Stanze . Tuve más tarde el tiempo de leerlo y de descubrir una nueva manera de aburrirme.

First, a man is created in his own image, and only afterwards in the image of God.

I wonder if being sane means disregarding the chaos that is life, pretending only an infinitesimal segment of it is reality.

Literature gives me life, and life kills me. Well, life kills everyone.

Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas.

Forgetting is as integral to memory as death is to life.

The receding perspective of my past smothers my present. Remembering is the malignancy that feasts on my now.

Remembering is the malignancy that feasts on my now.

Non fui, fui, non sum, non curo. I was not, I was, I am not, I don't care.

Giants of literature, philosophy, and the arts have influenced my life, but what have I done with this life? I remain a speck in a tumultuous universe that has little concern for me. I am no more than dust, a mote - dust to dust. I am a blade of grass upon which the stormtrooper's boot stomps.

The memory seems both real and unreal, reliable and tenuous, solid and insubstantial.

I told her I was not sure I could bear living with memories, she said, Look up at the stars, look, they are not there, what you see is the memory of what once was, once upon a time.

Satan said, You are a temp in life.

Death is the only vantage point from which a life can be truly measured.

Literature gives me life and life kills me.

The ticktock of the tiny object full of gears suffocating all existence, wringing life out of life.