Quotes About Meaning

Young people, they must struggle. If they don't strugglethey think life has no meaning. They feel lost. You see -' to Isabel - 'in countries where there is no need to struggle - in Norway, in Sweden - the young people kill themselves.

It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be (Ben Jonson)

At the end of things we turn into historians. Sometimes happy, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes regretful or bitter, sometimes to reassure ourselves that we have amounted to something, however small. And sometimes, as I am doing now, to try with the wisdom of hindsight to make sense of ourselves.

If I have a creed, this is it: My god is language, written and read. And there is no other god but this.

Participated divine light, existing as finite mind, intimately united with the body, precedes all the data of perception and makes apprehension of their inner order and meaning possible.

Christ is, then, the perfect art work in the sense of that reality in whom is realised those goals that all artistic making has as its explicit or implicit ends. Because he is infinite meaning, life and being perfectly synthesised with finite form, the cave painters at Lascaux, or Hesiod penning his hymns, or Beethoven working on his last quartets, were all gesturing towards him though they realised it not.

The word photography itself means "drawing with light" in Greek.

Something gets lost when you translate. It's hard to keep straight. Perspective is every thing.

A Life without meaning is equal to Death. It's like lying in your grave except that you still have Breath.

Man will live and man will die, The body will burn the Soul will fly, But before this happens, man must ask why,Why am I here and who am I?

We all want Pleasure,we don't want pain... If we don't realize 'Who we are' and 'Why we are here',our Life will go in vain.

We may Get everything we Desire, we may Achieve all that we Dream. But if we can't realize God in our life, then our Life is without a Gleam!

What exactly is the Soul? Some call it Spirit that makes our life Whole. It is the One that gives us Breath. Without it, there would be Death.

What is our Purpose of Life on earth? Why this Life? Why this birth? We must find out why we are born... And achieve our Purpose before death blows its horn.

You can Just Choose to Live and Die, or Start a Quest to Find out Who Am "I"!

Simply In Depth......

Just leave me alone. I'm happy goddammit. I know there's at least one person in this world... who cares about me. Who doesn't want anything from me. Do you have any idea what that's like? I never did. Not once in my entire life - until now. And that's worth more to me than anything else.

On these occasions I do feel an urge to talk about my work. Nevertheless, I try not to. If what I have said in my film is true, someone will understand.

Though we have translated deva as "god" and "deity," there is a vast difference between Indian gods and the modern Judeo-Christian idea of a deity. The Buddhist being that is closest to the Judeo-Christian notion of God is the Buddha. We cannot, though, in the narrowest sense of the word, call the Buddha a god.

In modern times, the idea of existential suffering has further weakened. Human life is no longer regarded as a realm of suffering but instead as a setting for the actualization of human happiness.

To love is to struggle, beyond solitude, with everything in the world that can animate existence. This world where I see for myself the fount of happiness my being with someone else brings. "I love you" becomes: in this world where there is the fount you are for my life. In the water from this fount, I see our bliss, yours first.

4.23..If 'thought' means: instance of the subject in a truth-procedure, then there is no thought of this thought, because it contains no knowledge.

This is a very difficult, almost metaphysical problem: how can what is pure chance at the outset become the fulcrum for a construction of truth? How can something that was basically unpredictable and seemed tied to the unpredictable vagaries of existence nevertheless become the entire meaning of two lives that have met, paired off, that will engage in the extended experience of the constant (re)-birth of the world via the mediation of the difference in their gazes?

Il poeta trasmette: il comprendere è superfluo.