Quotes About Transcendence

The wise soul feareth not death; rather she sometimes striveth for death, she goeth beyond to meet her. Yet eternity maintaineth her substance throughout time, immensity throughout space, universal form throughout motion.

Ello no significa, sin embargo, que la escritura filosófica deba ser poética sino que sobre todo debe contener las huellas de una escritura poética que se desvanece, debe exhibir de algún modo el retiro de la poesía.

Non-being is "not to be spoken of," for it is, in the strictest sense, nowhere.

Sunt suspendat între cer ÅŸi p?mânt, prea greoi ca s? m? înalÅ£ spre stele ÅŸi prea eteric ca s? scormonesc în noroi.

IL LAMPO E cielo e terra si mostrò qual era: la terra ansante, livida, in sussulto; il cielo ingombro, tragico, disfatto: bianca bianca nel tacito tumulto una casa apparì sparì d'un tratto; come un occhio, che, largo, esterrefatto, s'aprì si chiuse, nella notte nera.

Whatever seeds each man cultivates will grow to maturity and bear in him their own fruit. If they be vegetative, he will be like a plant. If sensitive, he will become brutish. If rational, he will grow into a heavenly being. If intellectual, he will be an angel and the son of God. And if, happy in the lot of no created thing, he withdraws into the center of his own unity, his spirit, made one with God, in the solitary darkness of God, who is set above all things, shall surpass them all.

Music is the harmonious voice of creation an echo of the invisible world.

Mattina" M'illumino d'immenso

I'm in the kitchen. You are three days dead. A smiling moon rises on fertile ground, White stars and vegetables. The sky is blue. Clock hands sweep by it all, they twirl around, Pushing me, oarless, from the shore of you.

The pornologue's mantric (as is the Athanasian Creed, for that matter) sucking her down to a level of herself where no questions are asked, where her history evaporates, where her self bleeds painlessly into the void.

This, of course, is the crux. It doesn't really matter what the language is, only whether there's a transcendent moral grammar underpinning it. No one really cares what hell's called or who runs it. They just don't want to go there.

Whenever you stand firmly in the midst of a hardship, holding and expressing the love that you are, you will witness illusions falling away. Through being the love that you are, you are empowered to transcend your sufferings.

Life and death. They are somehow sweetly and beautifully mixed, but I don't know how.

Das Ewig Weibliche zieht uns hinan.

Ich mögte beten wie Moses im Koran: Herr mache mir Raum in meiner engen Brust.

Sem duvida, sou apenas um andarilho, um peregrino na Terra. E vocês, são mais que isso ?

The angels are so enamored of the language that is spoken in heaven, that they will not distort their lips with the hissing and unmusical dialects of men, but speak their own, whether there be any who understand it or not.

Our bodies let go when it's time to let go — it's called death. We ought to let go of the little burdensome things each day — that's called living.

Beauty is visible music....

There is one way of breathing that is shameful and constricted. Then, there's another way: a love-breath that takes you all the way to infinity.

The last breath is as sacred as the first.

With several of them the game of life is ended and they have gone to bed under the willows. Their lips have taken the sacrament of the dust.

Our heart dies with us But our soul lives on Born into weightless spirit Becoming colors of the dawn

She did not feel sad; she did not feel anything. She seemed to have moved into a quiet state beyond human emotion.