Quotes About Metaphysical

A society, most of whose members spend a great part of their time, not on the spot, not here and now and in the calculable future, but somewhere else, in the irrelevant other worlds of sport and soap opera, of mythology and metaphysical fantasy, will find it hard to resist the encroachments of those who would manipulate and control it.

It is in the light of our beliefs about the ultimate nature of reality that we formulate our conceptions of right and wrong; and it is in the light of our conceptions of right and wrong that we frame our conduct, not only in the relations of private life, but also in the sphere of politics and economics. So far from being irrelevant, our metaphysical beliefs are the finally determining factor in all our actions.

Europe is so well gardened that it resembles a work of art, a scientific theory, a neat metaphysical system. Man has re-created Europe in his own image.

Those regularly-featured Hollywood males made her feel slightly nauseous; and the same could be said for their female equivalents, hardly intellectuals they. These people had regular features but were actually ugly because they tended to be so completely vacuous. Regularity without some metaphysical value behind it, some beauty of soul or character, was more disappointing – and indeed repulsive – than the honestly haphazard, the humanly messy.

Regularity without some metaphysical value behind it, some beauty of soul or character, was more disappointing – and indeed repulsive – than the honestly haphazard, the humanly messy.

The poetry of attention is not metaphysical. It trusts the opened eye to see. By faith, the eye stays open. And so the work of poetry is trust that, by faith, is shown to be no work at all.

The problem of a painting is physical and metaphysical, the same as I think life is physical and metaphysical.

Females have always been the biggest consumers of spiritual hoaxes such as astrology, crystals, seances, and other metaphysical claims about the world that rest simply on assertion rather than scientific proof.

An anxiety for being me, forever trapped in myself, floods my whole being without finding a way out, shaping me into tenderness, fear, sorrow and desolation. An inexplicable surfeit of absurd grief, a sorrow so lonely, so bereft, so metaphysically mine...

To live strikes me as a metaphysical mistake of matter, a dereliction of inaction.

And suddenly the metaphysically abrupt noise of the arrival of the office boy. I could kill him for interrupting what I was not thinking. I look at him, turning around, in a silence full of hatred; I listen, expectantly, in a tension of latent homicide. He smiles from the back of the office and says hello out loud. I hate him as I hate the universe. My eyes are leaden with sleep.

BaÅŸkalar?yla iÅŸbirliÄŸi yapmak, birlikte hareket etmek, onlara baÄŸlanmak; hep metafiziksel aç?dan hastal?kl? bir itkinin ürünü bunlar. Bir bireye bahÅŸedilmiÅŸ olan ruh, baÅŸkalar?yla iliÅŸki kurmak uÄŸruna ödünç verilmemeli. Kutsal var olmak olgusu, yan yana var olmak gibi ÅŸeytani bir olguya teslim edilmemeli.

I want the good, I want the bad, and in the end I want nothing. I toss in bed, uncomfortable on my right side, on my left side, And on my consciousness of existing, I'm universally uncomfortable, metaphysically uncomfortable, But what's even worse is my headache. That's more serious than the meaning of the universe.

Considero mie, con maggiore consanguineità e intimità, talune figure che sono scritte nei libri, certe immagini che ho conosciuto nelle illustrazioni, più di molte persone che sono considerate reali, che sono fatte di quell'inutilità metafisica chiamata carne e ossa.

Colaborar, relacionarse, hacer cosas con otros es un impulso metafísicamente enfermizo. El alma que es dada al individuo no debe prestarse a sus relaciones con los demás. El hecho divino de existir no debe ser entregado al hecho satánico de coexistir.

I feel more kinship and intimacy with certain characters described in books and certain images I've seen in prints than I feel with many so-called real people, who are of that metaphysical insignificance known as flesh and blood. And 'flesh and blood' in fact describes them rather well: they're like chunks of meat displayed in the window of a butcher's, dead things bleeding as if they were alive, shanks and cutlets of Destiny.

Who knows for what supreme forces – gods or demons of Truth in whose shadow we roam – I may be nothing but a shiny fly that alights in front of them for a moment or two? A facile hypothesis? Trite observation? Philosophy with no real thought? Maybe. But I didn't think: I felt. It was carnally, directly, with profound and dark horror that I made this ludicrous comparison.

Having been a Protestant, you may have the feeling that you must feel you believe; perhaps feeling belief is not always an illusion but I imagine it is most of the time; but I can understand the feeling of pain on going to Communion and it seems a more reliable feeling than joy. Do you know the Hopkins-Bridges correspondence? Bridges wrote Hopkins at one point and asked him how he could possibly learn to believe, expecting, I suppose, a metaphysical answer. Hopkins only said, "Give alms.

Spring has sprung. We're free at last, people. Free at last. Thank you mother nature, we're free. Time to toss open that metaphysical window and check out that psychic landscape. See lots of possibilities budding out there. Time to hoe those rows, feed that seed. Pretty soon you get a garden.

Segue to Qabalistic Autopsy Sketch]

the whole idea that people have a clue as to how the world works, is just a piece of laughable metaphysical colonialism perpetrated upon the wild country of time.

These two thoughts are, first, that behind the visible world there is another, the world invisible, which is hidden from the senses and also from thought that is fettered by these senses; and secondly, that it is possible for man to penetrate into that unseen world by developing certain faculties dormant within him.

De toda esa miríada negra, cabalgándose y atropellándose, hacía una forma informe e inquietante, y me di cuenta, de súbito, que mi cuerpo estaba cubierto de piel de gallina. En la oscura pantalla, mis ojos turbios se reblandecieron como metal a punto de derretirse, y en voz baja le dije a aquel yo al borde de la licuefacción: '¿quién eres tú? ¿de qué estás hecho?

I stress the uniqueness of the Australian landscape and its metaphysical and mythic content.