Quotes About Knowledge

The little I knew about my own self wouldn't have filled a thimble!... But one thing I do thank her for, for teaching me to learn for myself, by reading and studying and writing a clear hand. And for keeping alive in me somehow the desire to know.

Some people don't understand that it is the nature of the eye to have seen forever, and the nature of the mind to recall anything that was ever known. Or that was the nature, I should say, until man started to put things on paper.

However, loving is nothing if it is not an education...

I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ast. And that in wondering bout the big things and asting bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, the more I love.

Whenever I met someone who seemed to know a lot about a subject, and who evinced, moreover, a certain happiness in his or her being, and if I were interested in the subject, I asked to be taught what they knew.

Now he realized he'd probably understood nothing, and it also occurred to him what a superficial, ultimately fraudulent act it was to sleep with a person you did not really know.

I write all the things I should have been able to read.

think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ask. And that in wondering bout the big things and asking bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, he say, the more I love.

But in this time we are beginning to see and hear from mothers and fathers who assume the role of Those Who Also Know. The world is getting its Elders back.

But one thing I do thank her for, for teaching me to learn for myself, by reading and studying and writing a clear hand. And for keeping alive in me somehow the desire to know.

I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ast. And that in wondering bout the big things and asting bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, he say, the more I love.

Do you? Do you know what really went on in the Twin Towers? I don't.

E imagine que a dona Beasley sempre dizia que eu era a criança mais inteligente que ela já tinha ensinado! Mas eu agradeço a ela por uma coisa em particular que ela me ensinou, me mostrando como aprender por mim mesma, lendo e estudando e escrevendo claramente. E por ter mantido dentro de mim de alguma forma vivo o desejo de saber.

Whatever had made her think she knew what love was or was not?

hadn't realized I was so ignorant, Celie. The little I knew about my own self wouldn't have filled a thimble! And to think Miss Beasley always said I was the smartest child she ever taught! But one thing I do thank her for, for teaching me to learn for myself, by reading and studying and writing a clear hand. And for keeping alive in me somehow the desire to know.

What I love best bout her is what she been through, I say. When you look in her eyes you know she been where she been, seen what she seen, did what she did. And now she know.

I'm not courting death; I've far too many books left to read.

Canada, he told me one day through squinted eyes and smoke rings, is full of violent cowards. People believe they are gentile, but they attack in quiet ways. They use their intellect, their knowledge, always trying to prove they are smarter, more important. The man with no ego is the gentle man, Canada is a land of civilized barbarians.

As the wise Cicero said, "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.

Influence at work requires that you know what you are doing, have reasonable plans, are competent at the task at hand.

Knowledge is not necessarily enough to beat the nicotine trap.

I do not wish to escape to myself, I wish to escape from myself. I wish to obliterate my consciousness and my knowledge of independent existence, my guilts, my secretiveness.

America why are your libraries full of tears?

Scientist alone is true poet he gives us the moon