Quotes About Transcendence

Sutradan sam otišao do mrtva?nice Srebrna mirna luka da i tamo provjerim stvari. Vraški dobar posao - nikad mort sezone.

I was flying up to heaven; they were just talking – and fingering each other.

First and most importantly, death is just the absence of life—oh, and for human beings, the absence of consciousness, too, but not just the absence of consciousness, the absence of the capacity for consciousness.

I think we have the outline of the answer to the Fermi paradox. Transcendents don't go traveling because they can't get enough bandwidth—trying to migrate through one of these wormholes would be like trying to download your mind into a fruit fly, if they are what I think they are—and the slower-than-light route is out, too, because they couldn't take enough computronium along.

Possibly that's what happened out past the Böotes void—not a galactic-scale civilization, but a race of pathological cowards fleeing their own exponential transcendence.

The writer was coming into maturity, looking at life and death as if they were the same, a coming from darkness and a returning to it, a brief, bright, glorious span that was often marred by man's own incapacity to learn and trust.

Poetry is the language of the gods.

All those nights looking up at the sky, wanting to be there, away from the grief of being here.

Let go, live your life, the grave has no sunny corners

The world is the mirror of myself dying.

Becoming is the mode of activity of the uncreate deity.

At this high moment, ability failed my capacity to describe.

It just makes you feel proud, more than anything else, that the work has in some way transcended itself.

If it wasn't for music, I would think that love is mortal.

We seek true individuality and the true individuals. But we find them not. For lo, we mortals see what our poor eyes can see; and they, the true individuals, - they belong not to this world of our merely human sense and thought.

It is always edifying for mortals to look at a god.

My favorite kind of song is the most beautiful song that you love so much and it's so good it makes you want to cry a little bit. Any jam can sound like that on a certain day.

As the Greeks saw it, to be a man was to be defined by your ability to exert power in a world articulated through transcendent forces ultimately beyond human control. The apparent futility of this perspective was outweighed by the nobility that came with the struggle.

She was a voice that god seeks. She was the reed of demonic ecstasy. She was possessed. She knew not how but she knew the moment of her possession. The singing tongues of all the world were wakened into life again under the incantation of her voice. She was inhabited. She was spent.

Read not the Times, read the Eternities.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars.

I am of the theory that all of our transcendental connections, anything we're drawn to, be it a person, a song, a painting on a wall--they're magnetic. The art is the alloy, so to speak. And our souls are equipped with whatever properties are required to attract that alloy. I'm no scientist so I don't really know what the hell these properties are, but my point is we're drawn to stuff we've already got a connection to. Part of the thing is already inside of us.

God is the nail that splits our palm to break our grip on the world.

A handsome kid, really. Sharp gray eyes, lean and narrow-waisted, and when he died it was almost beautiful, the way the sunlight came around him and lifted him up and sucked him high into a tree full of moss and vines and white blossoms.