Quotes About Void

all that was missing...was everything else? Ann Hood, the Knitting Circle

All that was missing... was everything else.

Let such as say our sex is void of reason, Know it is slander now but once was treason.

But then to wake and find it flown, The dream of happiness destroyed, To find myself unloved, alone, What tongue can speak the dreary void? A heart whence warm affections flow, Creator, thou hast given to me, And am I only thus to know How sweet the joys of love would be?

Boyd loved an inaccuracy, for example, because an inaccuracy could render everything else you said void. It

What you didn't have, you didn't have.

Parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time. It's like an amputation, I feel a limb is being torn off, without which I shall be unable to function. And yet, once it is done... life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid and fuller than before.

This was not [him]. It was a thing, with all the [him]-ness gone from it. Death takes the person and leaves his shell behind, like a hollowed-out tree.

Nothing proves that we are more than nothing.

At first I felt dizzy - not with the kind of dizziness that makes the body reel but the kind that's like a dead emptiness in the brain, an instinctive awareness of the void.

My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.

The chill of what I won't feel gnaws at my present heart.

A verdade, porém, é que não existo nem eu, nem outra coisa qualquer. Todo este universo, e todos os outros universos, com seus diversos criadores e seus diversos Satãs mais ou menos perfeitos e adestrados são vácuos dentro do vácuo, nadas que giram, satélites, na órbita inútil de coisa nenhuma.

The voyage on the common sea towards some unknown place is perhaps more human than the abstract path to the world's void.

A vida é oca, a alma é oca, o mundo é oco. Todos os deuses morrem de uma morte maior que a morte. Tudo está mais vazio que o vácuo. E tudo um caos de coisas nenhumas.

I feel this because I feel nothing. I think this because this is nothing. Nothing, nothing, part of the night and the silence and what I share with them of vacancy, of negativity, of in-betweenness, a gap between me and myself, something forgotten by some god or other … 442

Ä°stemeden var?m ve istemeden öleceÄŸim. OlduÄŸum ÅŸeyle olmad???m ÅŸey aras?nda, hayal ettiÄŸim ÅŸeyle hayat?n beni yapt??? ÅŸey aras?nda bir boÅŸluÄŸum.

En mi cielo interior no ha habido nunca una misera estrella.

Boredom is not a thing. It's not a feeling or a condition. It is the absence of feelings, things and conditions.

We need to understand why there is a void of participation in public life from the Muslim community and why it is a growing issue, and we need to understand the impact of this on wider civil society.

I find that nothing but very close and intense application to subjects of a scientific nature now seems at all to keep my imagination from running wild, or to stop up the void which seems to be left in my mind from a want of excitement.

world" is totally absent.

The Self is all-pervasive; all "else" is absent.

The night was dark as pitch or coal. Stupid expressions, thought Pereda. European nights might be pitch-dark or coal-black, but not American nights, which are dark like a void, where there's nothing to hold on to, no shelter from the elements, just empty, storm-whipped space, above and below.