Quotes About Human

Still, to understand how the human mind sorts through the chaos of perception, surely one would need to understand how disorder can produce universality.

the recognition that human language has limits, that people choose concepts that correspond only faintly to things in the real world, like the shadows of ghosts.

find myself suddenly in the world and I recognize that I have one right alone: That of demanding human behavior from the other. One duty alone: That of not renouncing my freedom through my choices.18

Whether theologians acknowledge it or not, all theologies begin with experience ... We are all particular human beings, finite creatures, and we create our understanding of God out of our experience. Hopefully, our own experience points to the universal, but it is never identical with it. For when we mistake our own talk about God with ultimate reality, we turn it into ideology.

Very often conditions are recorded as observable under thy fingers [...] Among such observations it is important to notice that the pulsations of the human heart are observed.

Still, that was the city, a great big filthy breeding-place for vermin – animal and human.

Fate is what is given to us; destiny is what we are summoned to become. In the interplay of the two, human character plays a role. Hubris, or the fantasy that we know enough to know enough, seduces us toward choices that lead to unintended consequences. Hamartia, the failure to see clearly enough, to see humbly enough, is a lens through which we imperfectly envision the world, unavoidably distorting and reductive, but convincing at the moment nonetheless.

Imagine what our story would look like if, rather than succumbing to the insistent voices of family or culture, we determined that our vocation was to be a better human.

Is it not also a paradox that in our efforts to escape pain we all run immediately for salvation to human love where we find the greatest pain of all?

legal procedure has always tacitly been concerned with human relations, rather than abstract justice, and that consequently in spite of the legal codes it is really the human relations underneath that determine the verdicts in the courts.

once in a dream somewhere, sometime, someplace, they had managed for a moment to touch another human soul and understand it.

Art is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an esthetic end.

There is no heresy or no philosophy which is so abhorrent to the church as a human being.

One great part of every human existence is passed in a state which cannot be rendered sensible by the use of wideawake language, cutanddry grammar and goahead plot.

Pity is the feeling which arrests the mind in the presence of whatsoever is grave and constant in human sufferings and unites it with the human sufferer. Terror is the feeling which arrests the mind in the presence of whatsoever is grave and constant in human sufferings and unites it with the secret cause.

Art, said Stephen, is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an esthetic end.

Alternation of sad human ineffectiveness with vast inhuman cycles of activity chilled him and he forgot his own human and ineffectual grieving

I believe you're a good fellow but you have yet to learn the dignity of altruism and the responsibility of the human individual.

The photographs of the inmates at Bergen-Belsen or Andersonville Prison or the bodies in the ditch at My Lai disturb us in a singular fashion because those instances of egregious human cruelty were committed for the most part by baptized Christians.

There's enough evil in the human heart to incinerate the earth.

The human spirit is frail. People believe whatever they need to believe. I feel sorry for all of them.

There are certain kinds of currency you acquire in life. Most of it is ephemeral. But friendship and faith in the unseen world and the commitment to be true unto thine own self are the human glue that you never give up, not for any reason.

Who can make sense of the roles we play? If I could draw any conclusion about the long, depressing slog of human progress, it's the possibility that unseen elements lie just on the other side of the physical universe and that somehow we're actors on the stage of the Globe, right across the Thames from a place called Pissing Alley, whether William Shakespeare or Christopher Marlowe are aware of our presence or not.

No one had to convince me about the reality of hell. It wasn't a fiery pit. It lived and thrived in the human breast and consumed its host from night to morning.