Quotes About Searching

Men say that we ought not to enquire into the supreme God and the nature of the universe, nor busy ourselves in searching out the causes of things, and that such enquiries are impious; whereas the very opposite is the truth.

For the philosopher is wholly unacquainted with his next-door neighbour; he is ignorant, not only of what he is doing, but he hardly knows whether he is a man or an animal; he is searching into the essence of man, and busy in enquiring what belongs to such a nature to do or suffer different from any other;—I think that you understand me, Theodorus?

Each of us, then, is a token of a human, since we've been sliced like a flatfish and made two out of one. So everyone's always searching for his own token.

I feel like I'm some kind of fugitive here, like I'm hiding from something. Maybe myself.

You know if it'd been three wise women searching for the newborn babe, they would have asked for directions much sooner, found the stable, swept it out, and had a meal waiting by the time Mary and Joseph arrived.

the truth of the matter is that we've all got cracks in our spirits, and we have to remember they're only there because we need them.... Otherwise, how could God's grace filter in deep enough to give us the joy and peace we're all searching for in this world. It couldn't, plain and simple.

I forzati del portatile lo guardarono con indulgenza, mentre cercava con ansia febbrile. Il portapenne non c'era più. Si era certamente spezzato! Chinandosi per guardare sotto il tavolo, notò il rigonfiamento in una delle opere che trattavano di matematica e, aprendola, trovò il portapenne di Murano, infilato tra due pagine.

How long since she yearned? How long since she dared believe something so foolish as the idea that someone anywhere has the answers to questions she can't even put into words?

death walks at night in the aisles of a sick ward, searching for those whose defenses are lowered, who may stray unwittingly into its path through loneliness and fear.

I've spent more than twenty years looking for answers, Roger, and I can tell you only one thing: There aren't any answers, only choices. I've made a number of them myself, and no one can tell me whether they were right or wrong.

Everyone was searching for something, conducting lively arguments, getting excited, but behind it all one felt weariness, disillusion, emptiness.

Oh, hogyha látnád árva lelkedet A végtelen ?rben keringeni, Amint értelmet és kifejezést Keres hiába, idegen világban, S nem érez többé semmit és nem ért, Megborzadnál.

ve ben kendimin kapa??n? aç?p, Ivan için kitab?n ilk sayfalar?n? ar?yorum, yüzümün gizemli görünmesini saÄŸl?yorum...

I've found out that I don't belong anywhere anymore, I don't long to be anywhere, but I used to think I had a heart and I belonged in Austria. But one day it all comes to an end, you lose both heart and soul, and now there is something bleeding to death inside of me but I don't know what it is.

I am a dead man who wanders registered nowhere

Death: Do you never stop questioning? Antonius Block: No. I never stop.

my love now knew only the heart-rending nostalgia for what it lacked: a where, a surrounding, a before, an after.

E poi non sapevo più cosa guardare e guardai il cielo.

each door you open is the wrong one, you withdraw in confusion, you seem to be lost in the book with white pages, unable to get out of it.

Although I was the one cast out alone onto a transcontinental bus, home was running away from me

My brother was always lookin for a "good" girl. He sure was a fool. What you gonna do with a good girl?

She herself has been taken by surprise at how much it matters to her, this buried question from long ago. She has thought of Salome many times over the years, of course she has. Whenever her mind has strayed in the direction of home, or no, that is, the farm, not her home any more, whenever her mind strays to the farm there lots of stones to turn over, and Salome is one of them. But that particular stone never seems to find a resting place, no matter how often it's turned.

Faith is universal. Our specific methods for understanding it are arbitrary. Some of us pray to Jesus, some of us go to Mecca, some of us study subatomic particles. In the end we are all just searching for truth, that which is greater than ourselves.

Dear God: Please help me to know what the fuck to do with my life and how to fix it.