Quotes About Lost

When humanness is lost the radical difference between the bodies in the pit and people walking on the street is lost.

Who walks the fastest, but walks astray, is only furthest from his way.

I get lost in my own house - and it's not even a big house.

Sertorius was far from being strong enough to renew the gigantic enterprise of Hannibal. He was lost if he left Spain, where all his successes were bound up with the peculiarities of the country and the people; and even there, he was more and more compelled to renounce the offensive.

I think media has lost its way. We must recognize that the proprietors of these organizations have put on a form of censorship. Basically, they're more interested in celebrity, narcissism, rich people, good-looking people, and successful sportsmen.

By the time I was 30, nobody would work with me. I was friendless, I was hopeless, I was suicidal, lost my family - I mean, it was bad. Bottomed out, didn't know what I was going to do. I actually thought I was going to be a chef - go to work in a kitchen someplace.

'The Sun Also Rises' by Ernest Hemingway is my favorite book. You feel manly reading it.

I'm not super nostalgic for friendships I've lost along the way. I feel like, if they were truly meaningful and really special, they would still exist. I think we grow and change, and that's okay.

Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely, your path struggles on through incomprehensible mankind. All the more futile perhaps for keeping to its direction, keeping on toward the future, toward what has been lost.

Only those sadnesses are dangerous and bad which one carries about among people in order to drown them out; like sicknesses that are superficially and foolishly treated they simply withdraw and after a little pause break out again the more dreadfully; and accumulate within one and are life, are unlived, spurned, lost life, of which one may die.

I come home from the soaring In which I lost myself. I was song, and the refrain which is God Is still roaring in my ears.

I'd had too many drinks. Time ran invisible, fluid, sad.

You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who were lost from the start. I don't even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment.

And in our search for morality and happiness outside of God, we have effectively lost all three—God, morality, and happiness.

But souls can't be sold. They can only be lost and never found again.

We travel for romance, we travel for architecture, and we travel to be lost.

We lost our faith and went around wondering what life was for. If art was no more than a frustrated out-flinging of desire, if religion was no more than self-delusion, what good was life? Faith had always given us answers to all things. But it all went down the drain with Freud and Darwin. We were and still are a lost people.

Science ran too far ahead of us too quickly, and the people got lost in a mechanical wilderness, like children making over pretty things, gadgets, helicopters, rockets; emphasizing the wrong items, emphasizing machines instead of how to run the machines.

the shade of the raining tree where the sky fell and was lost in autumn leaves and crept down at last in shining rivers along the branches and trunk

Qué miras papá? —Estoy buscando lógica terrestre, sentido común, gobierno honesto, paz y responsabilidad. —¿Todas esas cosas están allá arriba? —No. No las he encontrado. Ya no están ahí. Y nunca volverán a estarlo. Quizá nunca lo estuvieron.

and the books say nothing! Nothing you can teach or believe. They're about nonexistent people, figments of imagination, if they're fiction. And if they're nonfiction, it's worse, one professor calling another an idiot, one philosopher screaming down another's gullet. All of them running about, putting out the stars and extinguishing the sun. You come away lost.

I had gone so far that I don´t know how I'll ever get back.

It made you feel very small, very lost, and yet it was not altogether depressing, that feeling. After all, if you were small, the grimy beetle crawled on—which was just what you wanted it to do. Where the pilgrims imagined it crawled to I don't know. To some place where they expected to get something, I bet! For me it crawled toward Kurtz—exclusively; but when the steam-pipes started leaking we crawled very slow.

Here, what do you know of madness and despair?' 'There are no such things. All passion is lost now. The world is mediocre, limp, without force. And madness and despair are a force. And force is a crime in the eyes of the fools, the weak and the silly who rule the roost.