Quotes About Consciousness

Today we do not live under a sacred canopy; it is marketing that forms the backdrop of our culture. The message that advertising dins into our conscious and unconscious minds is that fulfillment derives from the things we possess.

The bhakta's approach include repeating God's name, as in praying without ceasing "keep the name of the Lord spinning in the midst of all your activities." Washing or weaving, planting or shopping, imperceptibly but indelibly these verbal droplets of aspiration soak down into the subconscious, loading it with the divine.

In samadhi, the mind continues to think, but of no thing. This does not mean that it is thinking of nothing, that it is a total blank. It has perfected the paradox of seeing the invisible. It is filled with that which is "separated from all qualities, neither this nor that, without form, without a name.

Our life in historical or chronological time, measuring and minding, cautious and comparing, forms the horizontal arm of the cross. Our experience of the unqualified, of inner, immeasurable time (or timelessness), is the cross's vertical pole. We live in two kinds of time or perspective simultaneously. The horizontal and the vertical are at once quite distinct and entirely overlapping, and to experience their incongruity and confluence is what it means to be human.

The word my always implies a distinction between the possessor and what is possessed; when I speak of my book or my jacket, I do not suppose that I am those things. But I also speak of my body, my mind, or my personality, giving evidence thereby that in some sense I consider myself as distinct from them as well. What is this I that possesses my body and mind, but is not their equivalent?

What is to be known in raja yoga's final stage is without limits. The mind continues to think- if that is the right word- but of no thing. This does not mean that it is thinking of nothing, that it is a total blank. It has perfected the paradox of seeing the invisible. It is filled with that which is separated from all qualities, neither this nor that, without form, without a name. p49

si las puertas de la percepcion fueran depuradas, todo apareceria ante el ser humano tal y como es, infinito

It was the sort of idea that might easily decondition the more unsettled minds among the higher castes—make them lose their faith in happiness as the Sovereign Good and take to believing, instead, that the goal was somewhere beyond, somewhere outside the present human sphere, that the purpose of life was not the maintenance of well-being, but some intensification and refining of consciousness, some enlargement of knowledge.

La escritura es una larga introspección, es un viaje hacia las cavernas más oscuras de la conciencia, una lenta meditación

It made me feel good to know that I could see him and he couldn't see me, and that I was aware and fully conscious and he wasn't

Yes of course I know it's all a dream. Isn't everything?

and what are we all but information in peculiar packaging?)

I cannot remember a single painting, although I do remember trying hard to be deeply impressed by them at the time.

You are about to awake when you dream that you are dreaming.

Bond awoke in his own room at dawn and for a time he lay and stroked his memories.

Religion is an outgrowth of the human desire for self-knowledge, and an experience not just of our common humanity but of our unity with all life. It's the search for enhanced consciousness, higher education in human life. Religion isn't something one believes. It's something one does. This

If life was a dream, then dying must be the moment when you woke up. It was so simple it must be true. You died, the dream was over, you woke up. That's what people meant when they talked about going to heaven. It was like waking up.

The luxury of being half-asleep, exploring the fringes of psychosis in safety.

She sleepwalked from moment to moment, and whole months slipped by without memory, without bearing the faintest imprint of her conscious will.

Could it ever be explained, how matter becomes conscious?

Especially difficult when the first and best unconscious move of a dedicated liar is to persuade himself he's sincere. And once he's sincere, all deception vanishes.

I've heard it argued that long ago pain begat consciousness...Adversity forced awareness on us, and it works, it bites us when we go too near the fire, when we love too hard. Those felt sensations are the beginning of the invention of the self...God said, Let there be pain. And there was poetry. Eventually.

This is the pre-verbal language that linguists call Mentalese. Hardly a language, more a matrix of shifting patterns, consolidating and compressing meaning in fractions of a second, and blending it inseparably with its distinctive emotional hue. ... So that when a flash of red streaks in across his left peripheral vision ... it already has the quality of an idea ... unexpected and dangerous, but entirely his, and not of the world beyond himself.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my experience belongs to me, not the collective bloody unconscious.