Quotes About Transcendence

Above or Love, Hope, Hate or Fear, It lives all passionless and pure: An age shall fleet like earthly year; Its years in moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.

Faith goes out through the window when beauty comes in at the door.

O may I join the choir invisibleOf those immortal dead who live againIn minds made better by their presence.

Oh, may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again.

I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love, which flowed over the ocean of darkness.

Our reason has this peculiar fate that, with reference to one class of its knowledge, it is always troubled with questions which cannot be ignored, because they spring from the very nature of reason, and which cannot be answered, because they transcend the powers of human reason.

If God should really speak to man, man could still never know that it was God speaking.

Thus, if materialism is inadequate to explain my existence, then spiritualism is equally insufficient for this purpose.

How different each death is, and yet it leads us into the self-same country, that country which we inhabit so rarely, where we see the worthlessness of what we have long pursued and will so soon return to pursuing.

Si se entiende por eternidad, no la duración temporal sin fin, sino la ausencia de tiempo, vive eternamente el que vive en el presente.

Art transcends selfish and obsessive limitations of personality and can enlarge the sensibility of its consumer. It is a kind of goodness by proxy. Most of all it exhibits to us the connection, in human beings, of clear realistic vision with compassion. The realism of a great artist is not a photographic realism, it is essentially both pity and justice.

I must think of him as vanished utterly and gone forever.

There was a shadowy light, not exactly twilight, but an uncertain vivid yet hazy illumination, wherein people walked like spirits, bathed in light and not revealed.

Magic besieges the religious life and men yearn to speak the language of angels.

But there can be intuitions even here of a more sublime agony.

Of course she had read this work many times before, but there were certain parts to which she passionately returned: so cool, so elegant, so beautiful, so terrible. As she read tears began to stream down her face.

We all love a glimpse of Lucas, it's a religious experience.

But he was surrendered, they had surrendered him, into the power of death.

If I could only pray, he thought, if there was only some reservoir of force out of which I could draw something extra.

What is God anyway? A dark place —

Death drives away what rules everywhere else, the aesthetic.

And even in those seconds, and even as I wondered with anguish whether I would ever see her again, I lived with her in some angelic timeless world of quiet communication and absolute understanding.

This then was love, to look and look until one exists no more, this was the love which was the same as death.

Everything is full of gods, cousin James once said, quoting somebody.