Quotes About Meaning

You're wasting your time, she wanted to tell them. I don't care about your cars or your properties or your bags of gold. What have you done with your life? What are you going to do with it? That's all that matters.

Perhaps I did nothing to ease their lives at that point except exist and remind them that I loved them. Perhaps that's all anyone can do at such a time.

If there is no god, what is left but science? What is left to endow us with any grace? You can tell me the chemical makeup of my skin and my brain, but how can you explain away my soul? And if there is no god to watch over me, chastise me, grieve for me, rejoice for me, make me fear, and make me wonder, what am I but a collection of metals and liquids with nothing to celebrate about my daily living?

Why does man need bread? To survive. But why survive if it is only to eat more bread? To live is more than just to sustain life - it is to enrich, and be enriched by, life.

It's as if they take all our questions and offer them straight back: Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want?

When Jesus was moved by compassion, it was not just a feeling he had, but an understanding and conviction of what those people meant to the Father.

We long to feel good about our work. In his brilliant way of writing, Studs Terkel explained over 40 years ago what people wanted from their work efforts: "It is about a search, too, for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short for a sort of life rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying. . . . To be remembered was the wish, spoken and unspoken, of the heroes and heroines of this book."2

What is home? I wanted to ask. Haven't I already come home?

What's the point?" I asked even though I didn't expect an answer. He shook his head. "I don't know. Power." He took a drag on the cigarette. "To what end?

Time utilization should focused on life

I do care, goddamn it! Have you been listening? I. Love. You. I never really knew what that meant until you.

It's curious that the Latin root of the Middle English word for tradition, tradere, means not only to "impart" and "give over," but also to "betray.

dark. Basically, the more you're aware of what you want these images to convey, the richer the images are going to be.

It has long been known to me that certain objects want you as much as you want them. These are the ones that become important, the objects that you hold dear. The others fade from your life entirely. You wanted them, but they did not want you in return.

So your values, happiness and the things the people around you need. Those are the things by which you should steer your life.

There is a kind of sadness in not wanting the things that give so many other people their life's meaning.

What do humans go to art for, but to locate within themselves that inward-turning eye, which breathes significance into all of existence-for what is art but the act of infusing matter with the breath of God?

In their quest for a life without failure, suffering, or doubt, that is what they achieve: a life empty of all those things that make a human life meaningful.

For art is not made for living bodies—it is made for the cold, eternal soul.

You need tension in order to create something—the sand in the pearl. She said my questioning and doubts were the sand. She said they were good and forced me to live with integrity, to interrogate what was important to me, and so to live the meaning of my life, rather than resort to convention.

In death, he had given her what remained of his life, and this was the most beautiful thing. Perhaps we can only give in total beauty and simplicity in the moment of our dying, because that is the only giving that demands no return.

Ask only whether you are living your values, not whether the boxes are ticked.

But two years into our parties, I surveyed the scene from the corner and wondered, 'Why are we having these parties?' What were we making, coming together like that? We were trying to prove that we had everything because we had parties, but I began to feel like we had nothing but parties. If anyone from the future could look back on what we were building, I was sure they would say, 'That could only have been built by slaves

The more she thinks about the sort of maroonish light in his room those nights, and the light of the candel flickering, she knows that the colour of that room is how they all felt, and that colour is not just a representation of the world, but of the feelings in a room, and the meaningfulness of a room in time, because in that colour, her father died. She had never seen that colour before. It was the colour of a father dying.