Quotes About Stillness

When you approach something to photograph it, first be still with yourself until the object of your attention affirms your presence. Then don't leave until you have captured its essence.

I observe and remain silent.

All that is required to realise the Self is to "Be Still.

To meet everything and everyone through stillness instead of mental noise is the greatest gift you can offer the universe.

To achieve your ethereal state, you have to expand your thoughtless awareness.

If you could stop reflecting, immediately you establish yourself in the ocean of peace.

Today I am altogether without ambition. Where did I get such wisdom?

Look at your mind dispassionately; this is enough to calm it. When it is quiet, you can go beyond it. Do not keep it busy all the time. Stop it - and just BE.

The bottom of a lake we cannot see, because its surface is covered with ripples. It is only possible for us to catch a glimpse of the bottom, when the ripples have subsided, and the water is calm.

There are three stages in meditation. The first is what is called Dharana, concentrating the mind upon an object. I try to concentrate my mind upon this glass, excluding every other object from my mind except this glass. But the mind is wavering. When it has become strong and does not waver so much, it is called Dhyana, meditation. And then there is a still higher state when the differentiation between the glass and myself is lost — Samadhi or absorption

To my surprise, I had not just doodled, I had prayed (I drew new shapes and names of each friend and focused on the person whose name stared at me from the paper). I had though OF each person as I drew but not ABOUT each person. I could just sit with them in a variation on stillness. I could hold them in prayer.

Don't just do something, sit there!

Memory is the same as water. It is a still lake bathed in moonlight, a vast ocean, a violent river ready to carry you away. It can calm you or it can harm you; it is both more powerful and weaker than you'd think. It is a paradox.

At the still point of the turning world.Neither flesh nor fleshless.

Lying in a position of classic repose, Winnifred had never been more beautiful. Her silvery gold hair cascaded over the oaken door upon which she lay. A bright waterfall, it pooled on the deep green felt of the billiard table where the door rested. Her sightless blue eyes stared up at the plastered ceiling, her face a study in serenity and peace. I had never seen violent death leave a corpse so lovely.

I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

El amor es como las mariposas:si tratas de alcanzarlas desesperadamente, se alejan; pero si te quedas quieto, se posan sobre ti".

If you stand still outside you can hear it... Winter's footsteps, the sound of falling leaves.

Seek the still of prayer that you may know yourself and make order of what is required of you.

But if you've seen a dead body, you know how they change the air: that huge silence, the absence strong as a black hole, time stopped and molecules frozen around the still thing that's learned the final secret, the one he can never tell.

When I think about the Spain case, from deep inside endless nights, this is the moment I remember. Everything else, every other slip and stumble along the way, could have been redeemed. This is the one I clench tight because of how sharp it slices. Cold still air, a weak ray of sun glowing on the wall outside the window, smell of stale bread and apples.

None of them say anything. They keep their eyes closed. They lie still and feel the world change shape around them and inside them, feel the boundaries set solid; feel the wild left outside, to prowl perimeters till it thins into something imagined, something forgotten.

He'd forgotten what it felt like to surrender to the comfort of tranquility.

Everyone stared...at their own hands, or else abstractedly at the wall, as there had become in the room a feeling of immobilization, something of both nostalgia and doom--a sort of gigantic helplessness...an unpleasant urge to stay still for a very long time, forever, perhaps, not saying or thinking anything, but just accepting one another, entering and absorbing and maybe, finally, somehow--with anonymity, osmosis, conjecture, and luck--then, experiencing one another.