Quotes About Meaning

Poetry in general doesn't do anything, there are just individual poems. Some of them I don't get, some of them seem banal, some of them change my life. So there you go. It's bound to be a spectrum, it's the same with bagels.

Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.

What is an adjective? Nouns name the world. Verbs activate the names. Adjectives come from somewhere else. The word adjective (epitheton in Greek) is itself an adjective meaning 'placed on top', 'added', 'appended', 'foreign'. Adjectives seem fairly innocent additions, but look again. These small imported mechanisms are in charge of attaching everything in the world to its place in particularity. They are the latches of being.

The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between.

Time isn't made of anything. It is an abstraction. Just a meaning that we impose upon motion.

We are very happy. Or, no. We are not happy, exactly. But we love each other very much, and this charges our lives with shape and light.

Up and down' is Irish for anything at all--from crying into the dishes to full-blown psychosis. Though, now that I think about, a psychotic is more usually 'not quite herself'.

Memories mean more to me than dresses.

Yet some of the business of hearing is still frankly unfathomable. Although we know, for instance, that the brain procesess acoustic vibrations into neural signs, some of our phenomenal auditory talents, like translating the physical properties of sound into the abstract realm of meaning, remain a profound mystery, all the more since this occurs within 150 milliseconds after the beginning of the sound.

Our civilization really does not harbour a concept of the whole of life

Your problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.

Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.

How do you define difficult?" "By your presence." She grinned fully, delighted to feel the tension dissipate. "Now you are just flattering me for no reason." He grunted. "On the contrary," she said, as if his grunt had been a worded response. "It was most flattering." He stared at her. "What? Did you think I wouldn't figure out how to interpret your grunts?

Any given moment—no matter how casual, how ordinary—is poised, full of gaping life.

It longer seemed important to prove anything. I had found something outside myself that gave meaning to my life.

But something happened to me as I got more and more involved in the Movement. It no longer seemed important to prove anything. I had found something outside myself that gave meaning to my life.

It no longer seemed important to prove anything. I had found something outside myself that gave meaning to my life.

I would like to achieve a state of inner spiritual grace from which I could function and give as I was meant to in the eye of God.

Names are like codes, yes? Like magic codes. They have everything that ever happened to you squeezed tightly inside them.

A journey through all the nooks and crannies of the human experience, spiritual inquiry is the effort to connect with a larger reality, to master the self and its endless puzzles and boundaries. It's the never-ending asking, What is this? What's the point?

The portrait in his, and he's walking out of the house he was born in with blood on his hands and his head held high and his mother's face on his back, his own inalienable albatross, for all the world to see.

It's not a gift, but restitution, not charity but justice,' she wrote.

The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit.

Suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build.