Quotes About Living

The new hedonism seems unable to give people a reason to go on living. Its earliest fruits appear to be poisonous. Will this new "liberating" culture that our young have so enthusiastically embraced prove the deadliest carcinogen of them all? And if the West is in the grip of a "culture of death," as the pope contends and the statistics seem to show, is Western civilization about to follow Lenin's empire to the same inglorious end?

Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom; it moves to its own laws, and many living things dwell in it.

There is no necessity to live by the clock.

You don't repair that relationship by sitting down and talking about trust or making promises. Actually, what rebuilds it is living it and doing things differently - and I think that is what is going to make the difference.

I live life to the brim," she said. "And a little over the top, I'd say," said Grandfather.

If you're waiting for a special occasion to make your next trip happen, then consider this: The day you get off the couch and head for the airport, that's the special occasion.

Death was in the atmosphere. Only the yellow weeds in the meadow were excited by living.

He heard the creaking and cracking of wood again, groaning like a living thing, like the hungry stomach of the world growling for a meal. Then

No human being can go on living in the same house with a pigeon, a pigeon is the epitomy of chaos and anarchy, a pigeon that whizzes around unpredictably, that sets it's claws in you, picks at your eyes..

Closure is an illusion, the winking of the eye of a storm. Nothing is completely resolved in life, nothing is perfect. The important thing is to keep living because only by living can you see what happens next." - on Murakami's 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' in The New York Times

The priest had been kind but could not draw her out. Instead she chose to tell her story in the greater church, the green cathedral that is nature. For nature too is holy, more holy than the icons, more holy than the relics of saints. These were dead things compared to the most insignificant living thing. The fox knows this, and the deer, and the pine.

Looking back, long after his death, our way of living seems a miracle, one that could only be achieved by the silent synchronization of the jewels and gears of a common mind.

One step into a living space and one can sense the centrality of work in a life. Half-empty paper coffee cups. Half-eaten deli sandwiches. An encrusted soup bowl. Here is joy and neglect. A little mescal. A little jacking off, but mostly just work. This is how I live, I am thinking.

There are two types of masterpieces. There are the classic works monstrous and divine like Moby-Dick or Withering Heights or Frankenstein: A Modern Prometheus. And then there is a type wherein the writer seems to infuse living energy into words as the reader is spun, wrung, and hung out to dry.

Mom points at the gravesites all around us. "We all die, Lucy. Me. You. Everybody. But you know what we do first?" I shake my head. "We pretend that it's not going to happen. We make believe that we're never going to die. do you know what that's called?" "Lying?" I say. "Living, Lucy. It's called living...

Good begets good; evil begets evil; and even if the good you give is met by evil, you have no choice but to go on giving better than you get. Otherwise-and these were Willy's exact words-why bother to go on living?

there is only this world and that numbing routines and brief squabbles and financial worries are an essential part of it, that in spite of the aches and boredomes and disappointments, living in this world is the closest we will ever come to seeing paradise.

Memory, then, not so much as the past contained within us, but as proof of our life in the present. If a man is to be truly present among his surroundings, he must be thinking not of himself, but of what he sees. He must forget himself in order to be there. And from that forgetfulness arises the power of memory. It is a way of living one's life so that nothing is ever lost.

No importa -decía-. Un hombre debe vivir el presente y ¿qué importa quién eres la semana pasada, si sabes quién eres hoy?

Lei ha la storia, e quando una persona è abbastanza fortunata da vivere all'interno di una storia, da vivere in un mondo immaginario, i dolori di questo mondo svaniscono. Perché fino a quando la storia continua, la realtà non esiste più.

God was nowhere, he said to himself, but life was everywhere, and death was everywhere, and the living and the dead were joined.

Em outras palavras: medo de morrer, o que em última análise não é outra coisa que não medo de viver

a lire belongs only to the person who lives it; life itself will claim the living; to live is to let live.

una persona nerviosa y refunfuñona, demasiado angustiada por las minucias de la vida cotidiana para entender que la vida se te podía escapar antes de empezar a vivirla,