Quotes About Meaning

A life isn't measured in hours and minutes. It's the quality, not the length.

What's everyone talking about?" "The end of The Iliad." "That's the best part," Marx said. "Why is it the best part?" Sadie asked. "Because it's perfect," Marx said. "'Tamer of horses' is an honest profession. The lines mean that one doesn't have to be a god or a king for your life to have meaning.

It was odd to have something so personal out there in that way, but the good thing about art is that no one necessarily knows what you mean by it anyway.

And I was crying for gravity. It had sent me down the stairs, and I'd thought that meant something, but maybe it was just the direction that all things tend to flow.

In the end, the end of a life only matters to friends, family, and other folks you used to know. For everyone else, it's just another end.

We must fill our infinite days with something.

For most of his life, Sam had found it difficult to say I Love You. It was superior, he believed, to show love those one loved. But now, it seemed like one of the easiest things in the world Sam could do. Why wouldn't you tell someone you loved them? Once you loved someone, you repeated it until they were tired of hearing it. You said it until it ceased to have meaning. Why not? Of course, you goddamn did.

If your last words are somehow meant to encapsulate your entire existence, Liz finds um strangely appropriate. Um means nothing. Um is what you say while you're thinking of what you'll really say. Um suggests someone interrupted before they'd begun. Um is a fifteen-year-old girl who gets hit by a taxicab in front of a mall on the way to help pick out a prom dress for a prom she isn't even going to, for God's sake.

It has meaning to me. And the longer I do this (bookselling, yes, of course, but also living if that isn't too awfully sentimental), the more I believe that this is what the point of it all is. To connect, my dear little nerd. Only connect.

There is no purity in art. The process of how you arrive at something doesn't matter at all.

What does love even mean when you can find it with so many people and things?

I do not believe in God. I have no religion. But this to me is as close to a church as I have known in this life. It is a holy place. With bookstores like this, I feel confident in saying that there will be a book business for a very long time.

A name is destiny, if you think it is.

On Earth, Liz was constantly occupied with studying and finding a college and a career and all those other things that the adults in her life deemed terribly important. Since she had died, everything she was doing on Earth had seemed entirely meaningless. From Liz's point of view, the question of what her life would be was now definitively answered. The story of her life is short and pointless: There once was a girl who got hit by a car and died. The end.

Sam was her friend, but "friend" was a broad category, wasn't it? "Friend" was a word that was overused to the point that it had no meaning at all.

You know what they say. Cold hands. Warm heart," Yuji said. "Or is it the reverse?

A truly magnificent thing about the way the brain was coded, Sam thought, was that it could say "Excuse me" while meaning "Screw you.

Hi," Sam said, without looking at her. "You can watch if you want. I'm going to play until the end of this life." "That's a good philosophy," Anna said.

Does it count for anything that I just told you I love you?" Gable asked. I considered this briefly before deciding that it didn't. "Not really. Not when I know you don't mean it.

It was superior, he believed, to show love to those one loved. But now, it seemed like one of the easiest things in the world Sam could do. Why wouldn't you tell someone you loved them? Once you loved someone, you repeated it until they were tired of hearing it. You said it until it ceased to have meaning. Why not? Of course, you goddamn did.

I think they're in love." Sam sniffed, as if the idea of it, love, was ridiculous. "You disapprove, I take it?" "Marx is always in love. He's an emotional harlot. What does love even mean when you can find it with so many people and things?" "Marx is great," Sadie said. "I think he's lucky.

When you figured out Sam's dead mother's name, you decided that it was fate, and from that day forward, Sam would be your brother. A name is destiny, if you think it is.

There is no purity in art.

she was moved to write a poem. In certain seasons, We may be nourished by The idea of the carrot More than the carrot itself. Alas, what is the point of writing a poem if there is no one with whom to share it?