Quotes About World

Humans aren't as good as we should be in our capacity to empathize with feelings and thoughts of others, be they humans or other animals on Earth. So maybe part of our formal education should be training in empathy. Imagine how different the world would be if, in fact, that were 'reading, writing, arithmetic, empathy.'

The human bird shall take his first flight, filling the world with amazement, all writings with his fame, and bringing eternal glory to the nest whence he sprang.

The more research you do, the more at ease you are in the world you're writing about. It doesn't encumber you, it makes you free.

I have always been fascinated by the way things work and how they came to take the form that they did. Writing about these things satisfies my curiosity about the made world while at the same time giving me an opportunity to design a new explanation for the processes that shape it.

You have to have really wide reading habits and pay attention to the news and just everything that's going on in the world: you need to. If you get this right, then the writing is a piece of cake.

My personal experience has been that in my 25 years of writing, I have not been asked to do more than four or five commercial one-shot scripts. These were performed on major national hook-ups but produced for me no immediate additional jobs or requests. One script for BBC was done around the world with an all-star cast.

Building upon the world we created with 'Avatar' has been a rare and incredibly rewarding experience. In writing the new films, I've come to realize that 'Avatar's world, story and characters have become even richer than I anticipated, and it became apparent that two films would not be enough to capture everything I wanted to put on screen.

And it's a cold place the world, especially when warmed by arsen.

It isn't hard to find evil in this world. Evil is always more easily imagined than good, somehow.

Elena had always felt like the center of her own world - who doesn't? The world arranged itself around her like petals around the stem of a flower. This way the meadows, that way the woodland. Over here, the baryn's estate, out there, the hills that hug the known world close and imply a world at beyond. She could never come up with the edge of a world, because it always kept going on beyond. She moved the center of the world as she walked. The world was balanced on her head.

He had forgotten how convincing the world could look, how sure of itself: its outlines and edges; it's gradations, recessions, protrusions; it's startling and vulgar colors.

Furniture! bellowed the witch. Tables, bathtub, the lot of you. It's time to go out in the world and seek your fortunes, if that's your hope. There was a crashing sound as all the furniture went and tried to hide under the bed, and the bed tried to hide under itself.

But I must pay attention now, she thinks, because what other choice is there? Maybe when I die my soul will fly to meet God, but when that time comes I won't have the use of clever hands, nor the burden of an ugly face; hands and face will be planted like bulbs in the soil, while only the bloom of the spirit emerges elsewhere. So let my hands and my face make their way in the world, let my hungry eyes see, my tongue taste.

Before catechisms can instill a proper humility, small children know the truth that their own existence has caused the world to bloom into being.

I'm no pawn," said Glinda. "I take all the credit in the world for my own foolishness. Good gracious, dear, all of life is a spell. You know that. But you do have some choice.

O beautiful, to make escape And leave this world behind. Had I to stay another day I'd lose my fucking mind!

There was much to hate in this world, and too much to love.

Children surrender nothing when faced with the world: it is the world that gives up, over and over again. By so giving up, of course, it renews itself—that is the secret. Dying in order to live, that sort of thing.

I'm no pawn, said Glinda. I take all the credit in the world for my own foolishness. good gracious, dear, all of life is a spell. You know that. But you do have some choice.

Was it an accident I saw that...or is it just that the world unwraps itself to you, again and again, as soon as you are ready to see it anew?

It seems to me the nature of the world is all one thing or all the other. Either there is nothing but coincidence or there is nothing but established fare.

The small gesture of charity? Isn't that sort of beauty more beautiful than any other?" "And equally evanescent," says the Master, "for small charities cannot this wicked world amend. But perhaps charity is the kind of beauty that we comprehend the best because we miss it the most.

Death comes as a shock even when it is inevitable. The world reasserts itself. It says, I keep going whether you do or not. I am indifferent to your need for constancy, says the world, and my indifference is shown in my own constancy.

We are only missionaries for the world, after all, and when our work is done we really don't exist. Do we? Can it be said for anyone?