Quotes About Meaning

Every memorable act in the history of the world is a triumph of enthusiasm. Nothing great was ever achieved without it because it gives any challenge or any occupation, no mater how frightening or difficult, a new meaning. Without enthusiasm you are doomed to a life of mediocrity but with it you can accomplish miracles.

And one of his partners asked Has he vertigo? and the other glanced out and down and said Oh no, only about ten feet more.

In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends. We eat, drink, sing, dance, and flirt with them. We wed and christen with flowers. We dare not die without them. We have worshipped with the lily, we have meditated with the lotus, we have charged in battle array with the rose and the chrysanthemum. We have even attempted to speak in the language of flowers. How could we live without them? It frightens one to conceive of a world bereft of their presence.

He entered the realm of art when he perceived the subtle use of the useless.

Even when all the worlds have frozen or exploded, and all the suns gone dead and cold, there'll still be time. Oh, God, what for?

When the knock comes, it will knock a certain reticence. It will leave your door covered in white-knuckles. And the windows will no longer breathe, they will die like paintings. And you will no longer be worrying the stars into meaning, they will already mean something

I am a woman committed to a politics of transliteration, the methodology of a mind stunned at the suddenly possible shifts of meaning - for which like amnesiacs in a ward on fire, we must find words or burn.

Nothing is innocent, and nothing is insignificant, it's all a big endless puzzle.

Wie pani, czasem mam wra?enie, ?e ?yjemy w ?wiecie, który sobie wymy?lamy. Ustalamy sobie, co jest dobre, a co nie, rysujemy mapy znacze?... A potem ca?e ?ycie zmagamy si? z tym, co?my sobie wykoncypowali. Problem polega na tym, ?e ka?dy ma swoj? wersj?, i dlatego tak trudno jest si? ludziom dogada?.

zrozumia?am, ?e smutek jest wa?nym s?owem w definicji ?wiata. Le?y u podstaw wszystkiego, jest pi?tym ?ywio?em, kwintesencj?.

You know what, sometimes it seems to me we're living in a world that we fabricate for ourselves. We decide what's good and what isn't, we draw maps of meanings for ourselves . . . And then we spend our whole lives struggling with what we have invented for ourselves. The problem is that each of us has our own version of it, so people find it hard to understand each other.

Gdyby umie? spojrze? tak, jak Jenta to widzi, zobaczy?oby si?, ?e w istocie ?wiat sk?ada si? ze s?ów, które raz powiedziane, roszcz? sobie odt?d pretensje do wszelkiego porz?dku i wszystko wydaje si? dzia? pod ich dyktando, wszystko im podlega.

It's not about whether God exists or not. It's not like that. To believe, or not to believe, that is the question.

Words are not nobilities that want their genealogical trees we traced. Words are merchants, swift and useful, now here, now there.

we fabricate for ourselves. We decide what's good and what isn't, we draw maps of meanings for ourselves . . . And then we spend our whole lives struggling with what we have invented for ourselves. The problem is that each of us has our own version of it, so people find it hard to understand each other.

You Know what, sometimes it seems to me we've living in a world that fabricate for ourselves. We decide what's good and what isn't, we draw maps of meanings for ourselves...And then we spend our whole lives struggling with what we have invented for ourselves. The problems is that each of us has our own version of it, so people find it hard to understand each other

A mind that seemed to be aware of everything, even things it didn't really understand, but that moved fast—a quick, intelligent electric impulse without limits, linking everything with everything, convinced that all of it together must mean something, even if we couldn't yet know what.

the vastness of these contents cannot be traversed from word to word- you have to step in between the words, into the unfathomable abysses between ideas. With every step we'll slip and fall.

There is only one thing we cannot have—eternal life, and, by God, whence did that concept come into our heads, that idea of being immortal?

sometimes it seems to me we're living in a world we fabricate for ourselves. We decide what's good and what isn't, we draw maps of meanings for ourselves... And then we spend our whole lives struggling with what we have invented for ourselves. The problem is that each of us has our own version of it, so people find it hard to understand each other.

Drogi Mieczys?awie (...) czy zgodzi si? pan ze mn?, ?e cz?owiek istnieje tylko w j?zyku? Wszystko poza j?zykiem jest zwierz?ce i niezró?nicowane. To j?zyk sprawia, ?e jeste?my tym, kim jeste?my.

that the world itself demands to be narrated, and only then does it truly exist, only then can it flourish fully.

Kto czyta, ?eby tylko zrozumie?, dopuszcza si? blasfemii. Czyta si?, ?eby prze?ywa? - to g??bszy, bardziej ca?o?ciowy rodzaj rozumienia.

Now we have no God. We have had two: the old God that our fathers handed down to us, that we hated, and never liked; the new one that we made for ourselves, that we loved; but now he has flitted away from us, and we see what he was made of -- the shadow of our highest ideal, crowned and throned. Now we have no God.