Quotes About Detachment

Just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand.

I stopped wanting or not wanting anything concerning Bowie a long time ago. I stay neutral. He does what he does. Always has.

Ang mga itinutulak mong palayo… lumalayo.

So little goes with the body of a man. So much is left behind.

Sometimes, you just have to walk away and never look back.

I do not want to take part in my life. It can just go on without me; I'm not giving it any help. I don't want to see it, I don't want to talk to it, I don't want it anywhere near me. It takes too much energy. I refuse to be a part of it. If you have a life, even if you get used to it ruining your sleep, spoiling your fun, requiring your somewhat undivided attention, what overwhelming relief one must feel when it finally skips town.

Iwish you would love me more so that I could love you less. —Not Me

Excuse me while I jot that down in my Big Blue Book of Who Gives a Shit?

Sometimes the best gain is to lose.

Train yourself to let go of the things you fear to lose.

He watched them from a distance, as if he still sat in the window of his bedchamber, looking down on the yard below, seeing everything yet a part of nothing." - Bran

seeing everything, yet a part of nothing.

To want nothing. Just to wait, until there is nothing left to wait for. Just to wander, and to sleep. To let yourself be carried along by the crowds, and the streets. To follow the gutters, the fences, the water's edge. To walk the length of the embankments, to hug the walls. To waste your time. To have no projects, to feel no impatience. To be without desire, or resentment, or revolt.

To become the spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life.

He looked at me as if I was a side dish he hadn't ordered.

Include me out.

One is healthy when one can laugh at the earnestness and zeal with which one has been hypnotized by any single detail of one's life.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me; I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee.

Come, follow me, and leave the world to its babblings.

Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home; Thou are not my friend; I am not thine.

Happy the man who has broken the chains which hurt the mind, and has given up worrying, once and for all.

To write is to become disinterested. There is a certain renunciation in art.

The remedy for wrongs is to forget them.

No blubbering over spilt wine.