Quotes About World

It was very easy for me to discern, without revealing my own presence, that an entire world of vampires mourned for me with greater anguish and tears than I could ever have predicted.

Sometimes I think the theologians have got it backwards. The big problem is not How to explain the existence of evil in this world. It's How to explain the existence of good.

What stars are these that sing so beautifully when all the world is languishing in dissonance?

I hope in the next world I shall be at ease, but in this I find I must not expect it long together.

Do I make you nervous, Madame Lambert?" "No. I just prefer to keep my distance." "Evil isn't contagious." "I thought you said you weren't the most evil man in the world?" "I'm not. But that doesn't mean I'm a good man." "I don't think anyone would argue with that.

Women kept the world running, really. (There was a definite difference between 'running the world' and 'keeping it running.')

Then he returned to his room and switched on the evening news. The world was doing poorly;

There is no such thing as an artist: there is only the world lit or unlit as the light allows. When the candle is burning, who looks at the wick? When the candle is out, who needs it?

I saw in a blue haze all the world poured flat and pale between the mountains

I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them again

What do I make of all this texture? What does it mean about the kind of world in which I have been set down? The texture of the world, its filigree and scrollwork, means that there is the possibility for beauty here, a beauty inexhaustible in its complexity, which opens to my knock, which answers in me a call I do not remember calling, and which trains me to the wild and extravagant nature of the spirit I seek.

The world did not have me in mind; it had no mind. It was a coincidental collection of things and people, of items, an I myself was one such item...the things in the world did not necessarily cause my overwhelming feelings; the feelings were inside me, beneath my skin, behind my ribs, withing my skull. They were even, to some extent, under my control.

Nature's silence is its one remark, and every flake of world is a chip off that old mute and immutable block.

People love the good not much less than the beautiful, and the happy as well, or even just the living, for the world of it all, and heart's home.

What is important is the moment of opening a life and feeling it touch--with an electric hiss and cry--this speckled mineral sphere, our present world.

Nature's silence is its one remark, and every flake of world is a chip off that old mute and immutable block. The Chiense say that we live in the world of ten thousand things. Each of the ten thousand things cries out to us precisely nothing.

I like to be aware of a book as a piece of writing, and aware of its structure as a product of mind, and yet I want to be able to see the represented world through it. I admire artists who succeed in dividing my attention more or less evenly between the world of their books and the art of their books . . . so that a reader may study the work with pleasure as well as the world that it describes.

There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind. On a sunny day, the sun's energy on a square acre of land or pond can equal 4500 horsepower. These horses heave in every direction, like slaves building pyramids, and fashion, from the bottom up, a new and sturdy world.

Maybe Flicker's power made her think differently than most people. She saw the world from so many perspectives, and seeing was half of enlightenment.

The thought of publishing—of the whole world reading Afterworlds—had always made Darcy feel naked and exposed, but loving had left her skinless.

The beauty of the world . . . has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. —Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

When the people of the world all know beauty as beauty, There arises the recognition of ugliness. When they all know the good as good, There arises the recognition of evil.

Some history clique had applied averaging software to the world's great spiritual books, then programmed it to spit out godlike decrees. For some reason, the software had told them not to eat pigs.

And hidden within the agony the strange clarity came again, as if the world had ordered itself into something that made perfect sense.