Quotes About Consciousness

When the wings of insanity beat so near, one pays attention to a feather

I heard her calling to me from caverns so deep in herself she was never aware of her own voice.

The world in which you live is not primarily determined by outward conditions and circumstances but by the thoughts that habitually occupy your mind.

The creative thought principle is very important, for as Gautama Buddha declared, "The mind is everything; what you think you become.

The poet, however, uses these two crude, primitive, archaic forms of thought (simile and metaphor) in the most uninhibited way, because his job is not to describe nature, but to show you a world completely absorbed and possessed by the human mind.

How can you see something that isn't there? yawned the Humbug, who wasn't fully awake yet. Sometimes, it's much simpler than seeing things that are,he said. For instance, if something is there, you can only see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones. Then where is Reality? barked Tock. Right here,cried Alec, waving his arms.

Why don't they live in Illusions?' suggested the Humbug. 'It's much prettier.' 'Many of them do,' he answered, walking in the direction of the forest once again, 'but it's just as bad to live in a place where what you do see isn't there as it is to live in one where what you don't see is.

Ali zar u buci nema i dobrih zvukova?

For instance, if something is there, you can only see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones.

Pues apenas el tiempo se divide en ayer, hoy y mañana, en horas, minutos y segundos, el hombre cesa de ser uno con el tiempo, cesa de coincidir con el fluir de la realidad.

He is astonished at the fact of his being, and this astonishment leads to reflection: as he leans over the river of his consciousness, he asks himself if the face that appears there, disfigured by the water, is his own. The singularity of his being, which is pure sensation in children, becomes a problem and a question

al entrar en ti mismo no sales del mundo

Los ojos se cierran, las palabras se abren.

A TODOS, en algún momento, se nos ha revelado nuestra existencia como algo particular, intransferible y precioso. Casi siempre esta revelación se sitúa en la adolescencia. El descubrimiento de nosotros mismos se manifiesta como un sabernos solos; entre el mundo y nosotros se abre una impalpable, transparente muralla: la de nuestra conciencia.

To live is also to think, and sometimes to cross that border beyond which feeling and thinking become one: poetry. Meanwhile

I am where I was: I walk behind the murmur, footsteps within me, heard with my eyes, the murmur is in the mind, I am my footsteps, I hear the voices that I think, the voices that think me as as I think them. I am the shadow my words cast. from Draft of Shadows

Self-discovery is above all the realization that we are alone: it is the opening of an impalpable, transparent wall - that of our consciousness - between the world and ourselves.

The unreality of the watched makes the watching real.

Es posible que lo que llamamos pecado no sea sino la expresión mítica de la conciencia de nosotros mismos, de nuestra soledad.

Freedom is not a philosophy, nor it is even an idea. It is a movement of consciousness that lead us, at certain moments, to utter one of two monosyllables: Yes or No. In their brevity, lasting but an instant, like a flash of lighting, the contradictory character of human nature stands revealed.

Days that haunt the poem's single day are like the air revisiting this house of vocables that you and I designed: its windows watch an ocean and a sky to learn what portion of the other's mind the jet-trails presage: letters are stones that fly to settle in a wall of which the line traces an hour, a where, a place of thought. What is more palpable, the thing we saw or the images its recollection brought into the mind to ask us what we are? from "Day

Estamos solos. La soledad, fondo de donde brota la angustia, empezó el día en que nos desprendimos del ámbito materno y caímos en un mundo extraño y hostil. Hemos caído, y esta caída, este sabernos caídos, nos vuelve culpables. ¿De qué? De un delito sin nombre: el haber nacido.

Si es real la luz blanca de esta lámpara, real la mano que escribe, ¿son reales los ojos que miran lo escrito?

Eres tan sólo un sueño, pero en ti sueña el mundo y su mudez habla con tus palabras.