Quotes About Wisdom

If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.

Brains are an asset, if you hide them.

Errar es humano, pero se siente divino.

You only live once—but if you work it right, once is enough. —JOE E. LEWIS

Sólo vives una vez, pero si vives bien una vez es suficiente.

It's a funny old world. Once you realize that, you're halfway there.

But an intelligent man like you would know that to live in an unrealistic hope is a very foolish way to spend a life." - Lena Gray

but in our minds these stories remind us that we are always waiting, and remind us of what we are waiting for — a respite, a touch of grace, something simple that starts us wondering. I am reminded of Oliver Goldsmith, who said, two hundred years ago, "Innocently to amuse the imagination in this dream of life is wisdom.

Want wisdom? Laugh at yourself.

Who can I trust? You have to invest in somebody and chances are you're probably going to invest in somebody who's going to deceive you. I've been conned a couple of times, but now I'm a little more savvy.

This slice of truth, offered in the final hour, ended up beginning a new chapter of my adulthood, the one in which I realized that age doesn't necessarily bring anything with it, save itself. The rest is optional.

Perhaps I had inadvertently brushed up against the Buddhist axiom, that enlightenment is the ultimate disappointment.

When I was alive, I aimed to be a student not of longing but of light.

I do not know the reason for this blue pussy, meant to convey both divine bewilderment and revelation. But I do feel that its color is right. For blue has no mind. It is not wise, nor does it promise any wisdom. It is beautiful, and despite what the poets and philosophers and theologians have said, I think beauty neither obscures truth nor reveals it. Likewise, it leads neither towards justice nor away from it. It is pharmakon. It radiates.

But now you are talking as if love were a consolation. Simone Weil warned otherwise. "Love is not consolation," she wrote. "It is light." 240.

This slice of truth, offered in the final hour, ended up beginning a new chapter of my adulthood, the one in which I realized that age doesn't necessarily bring anything with it, save itself. The rest is optional. Bear

Love is not consolation," she wrote. "It is light." All right then, let me try to rephrase. When I was alive, I aimed to be a student not of longing but of light.

For blue has no mind. It is not wise, nor does it promise any wisdom. It is beautiful, and despite what the poets and philosophers and theologians have said, I think beauty neither obscures truth nor reveals it. Likewise, it leads neither towards justice nor away from it. It is pharmakon. It radiates.

How clearly I have seen my condition, yet how childishly I have acted

one may have to undergo the same realizations, write the same notes in the margin, return to the same themes in one's work, relearn the same emotional truths, write the same book over and over again—not because one is stupid or obstinate or incapable of change, but because such revisitations constitute a life.

When you're a child, no one tells you that you are going to die. You have to work it out for yourself.

That the things in life which don't go to plan are usually more important, more formative, in the long run, than the things that do.

I give thanks for the wise qualities of the evergreen trees that have stood by me this day: may you show me how my own heart can be evergreen and growing through winters of doubt and darkness.

Use your own light and return to the source of light. This is called practicing eternity.