Quotes About Meaning

What was it you said? After the math comes the aftermath?

He said that a Godless life would not prepare one for a Godless death. To that I have no answer.

And it may even be that in the end all problems are spiritual problems.

How would you know if you were the last man on earth? he said. I dont guess you would know it. You'd just be it. Nobody would know it. It wouldnt make any difference. When you die it's the same as if everybody else did too. I guess God would know it. Is that it? There is no God. No? There is no God and we are his prophets.

There is mass hatred and there is mass grief. Mass vengeance and even mass suicide. But there is no mass forgiveness. There is only you.

You think that you can create a history of what has been. Present artifacts. A clutch of letters. A sachet in a dressing table drawer. But that's not what's at the heart of the tale. The problem is that what drives the tale will not survive the tale.

She aint worth it. None of em are. He didnt answer for a while. Then he said: Yes they are.

If you dont know what life is—and you dont—then I'm not sure how you would characterize the absence of it.

Names are important. They set the parameters for the rules of engagement. The origin of language is in the single sound that designates the other person. Before you do something to them.

And what do these categories signify? Where did they come from? What does it mean that they are two shades of blue? In my eyes. If music was here before we were, for whom was it here? Schopenhauer says somewhere that if the entire universe should vanish the only thing left would be music.

Nem todas as palavras prestes a morrer são portadoras da verdade e a bênção que proporcionam não é menos genuína por se ver privada dos seus fundamentos.

Contemplating death is supposed to have a certain philosophical value. Palliative even. Trivial to say, but the best way to die well is to live well. To die for another would give your death meaning. Ignoring for the time being the fact that the other is going to die anyway.

God it set them yappin on the slope like dogs and he turns to us, the judge, with that smile of his, and he says: Gentlemen. That was all he said.

He'd half meant to speak but those eyes had altered the world forever in the space of a heartbeat.

I'll go slower. Grief is the stuff of life. A life without grief is no life at all. But regret is a prison. Some part of you which you deeply value lies forever impaled at a crossroads you can no longer find and never forget.

I dont know what sort of world she will live in and I have no fixed opinions concerning how she should live in it. I only know that if she does not come to value what is true above what is useful it will make little difference whether she lives at all.

Perhaps they had come to warn him. But of what? That he couldn't enkindle in the boy's heart what was ashes in his own?

He moves in the dry chaff among the dust and slats of sunlight with a constrained truculence. Saxon and Celtic bloods. A child of God much like yourself perhaps.

If something did not love you you would not be here.

Where you've nothing else construct ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them.

What do you think death is, man? Of whom do we speak when we speak of a man who was and is not? Are these blind riddles or are they not some part of every man's jurisdiction? What is death if not an agency? And whom does he intend toward?

He'd the notion that there would be something in the story itself to tell him about the way the world was or was becoming but there was not. There was nothing in it at all.

Things separate from their stories have no meaning. They are only shapes of a certain size and color. A certain weight. When their meaning has become lost to us they no longer have even a name.

How does the never to be differ from what never was