Quotes About World

Bertolt Brecht: I would also like to be wise. In the old books it says what wisdom is: To shun the strife of the world and to live out Your brief time without fear

Whether to add you to my conquests. The plain evidence that you are indeed a woman of the world absolves me of some irritating points of honor on the question that have made me hesitate.

if our children are to thrive in a world that is rapidly evolving and full of uncertainty, they need less structure and more play.

We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

I felt the currents move. The grains of sand whispered against each other. His wings were lifting. The darkness around us shimmered with clouds of his gilded blood. Beneath my feet were the bones of a thousand years. I thought: I cannot bear this world a moment longer. Then, child, make another.

Sweet son," I said "you are right, this world is a wild and terrible place, and worth shouting at. But you are safe now, and all of us need to sleep. Will you let us have a little peace?

This, and this and this. We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but each other.

The world was made of mysteries, and I was only another riddle among the millions.

He would patch their ships and I would cast charms against biting flies and fevers and we would take pleasure in the simple mending of the world.

In my chair by the hearth, I lifted my cup. "Sometimes," I told him, "you must be content with ignorance." He did not like that answer, yet that was the perversity of him: in a way he liked it best of all. I had seen how he could shuck truths from men like oyster shells, how he could pry into a breast with a glance and a well-timed word. So little of the world did not yield to his sounding. In the end, I think the fact that I did not was his favorite thing about me.

The world was made of mysteries, and I was only another riddle among the millions. I did not answer him, and though he pretended frustration, I began to see that it pleased him in some strange way. A door that did not open at his knock was a novelty in its own right, and a kind of relief as well. All the world confessed to him. He confessed to me.

Brides, nymphs were called, but that is not really how the world saw us. We were an endless feast laid out upon a table, beautiful and renewing. And so very bad at getting away.

We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but each other

Give him to me, I said. I held him up before me and looked into his screaming face. 'Sweet son,' I said, 'you are right, this world is a wild and terrible place, and worth shouting at. But you are safe now, and all of us need to sleep. Will you let us have a little peace?' And he calmed.

It is one of the psychological mistakes that the world makes, to assume that a man whose inclination drives him on to attempt seduction after seduction is a man of more ardent erotic passion than the more constant lover. The very reverse is the case.

Do you ever feel,' he said, 'as if one part of your soul belonged to a world altogether different from this world – as if it were completely disillusioned about all the things that people make such a fuss over and yet were involved in something that was very important?

nothing is higher than heaven; nothing is beyond the walls of the world; nothing is lower than hell, or more glorious than virtue."48

Or else take the contemporarily untenable position that evil, undiluted by any hint of childhood trauma, does exist in the world, exists for its own precise sake, the pustular bequest from the beast, as inexplicable as Belsen.

It is a practical world, Mr. Owen, and we have to do practical things.

I had that fractional part of consciousness left which gave me a remote and unimportant view of reality. The world was a television set at the other end of a dark auditorium, with blurred sound and a fringe area picture.

First, we all stop listening, so they have to make it ever more horrendous to capture our attention. Secondly, we all become even more convinced that everything has gone rotten, and there is no hope at all, no hope at all. In a world of no hope the motto is semper fidelis, which means in translation, "Every week is screw-your-buddy week and his wife too, if he's out of town.

The terrible thing about having New York go stale on you is that there's nowhere else. It's the top of the world. All we can do is go round and round in a squirrel cage.

Yet if a Poem have a Genius, it will force its own reception in the World.

NOW  with a general Peace the World was blest, While Ours, a World divided from the rest