Quotes About Transcendence

Things will be better when everybody's gone. They will? Sure they will. Better for who? Everybody.

Pe-acest drum nu mai e nici un suflet de om de la care s? auzi vorba Domnului. S-au dus, iar eu am r?mas È™i ei au luat cu ei lumea. Întrebare: prin ce se deosebeÈ™te ce nu va fi niciodat? de ce nu a fost niciodat??

Nessuna lista di cose da fare. Ogni giornata sufficiente a se stessa. Ogni ora. Non c'è un dopo. Il dopo è già qui. Tutte le cose piene di grazia e bellezza che ci portiamo nel cuore hanno un'origine comune nel dolore. Nascono dal cordoglio e dalle ceneri. Ecco, sussurrò al bambino addormentato. Io ho te.

To see God everywhere is to see Him nowhere

Where do we go when we die? he said. I dont know, the man said. Where are we now?

Sürmeye devam etti çünkü geri dönemezdi ve dünya o gün her zamankinden de güzeldi, o ise ölümüne yol al?yordu.

But someplace in the scheme of things this world must touch the other.

Some time after midnight on the twenty-first of December it began to snow. By morning in the gray spectral light of a brief and obscure winter sun the fields lay deadwhite and touched with a phosphorous glow as if producing illumination of themselves, and the snow was still wisping down thickly, veiling the trees beyond the creek and the mountain itself, falling softly, and softly, faintly sounding in the immense white silence.

Schopenhauer says somewhere that if the entire universe should vanish the only thing left would be music.

My railings against the platonists are a thing of the past. Assuming at last that one could, what would be the advantage of ignoring the transcendent nature of mathematical truths. There is nothing else that all men are compelled to agree upon, and when the last light in the last eye fades to black and takes all speculation with it forever I think it could even be that these truths will glow for just a moment in the final light. Before the dark and the cold claim everything.

when you close your eyes do I go away? Do you?

Under the hooves of the horses the alabaster sand shaped itself in whorls strangely symmetric like iron filings in a field and these shapes flared and drew back again, resonating upon that harmonic ground and then turning to swirl away over the playa. As if the very sediment of things contained yet some residue of sentience. As if in the transit of those riders were a thing so profoundly terrible as to register even to the uttermost granulation of reality

And then again, maybe people and things are the same as emotions: Even when you can't see them or feel them or be with them, and even when they have died and even before they are born, they still exist somewhere. Far away or close, they're always somewhere. Maybe nothing in the world is truly lost, I think.

Kingdom of Heaven is really a metaphor for a state of consciousness.

He returns years later, has no demands. He wants only one, most precious thing: To see, purely and simply, without name, Without expectations, fears, or hopes, At the edge where there is no I or not-I.

I imagine the earth when I am no more: Women's dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley. Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born, Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.

This is why we cannot love in the common sense. Somehow with you I cannot long be trivial, and, you know, to be always beyond this mortal state would be to lose it.

Brute force crushes many plants. Yet the plants rise again. The Pyramids will not last a moment compared with the daisy. And before Buddha or Jesus spoke the nightingale sang, and long after the words of Jesus and Buddha are gone into oblivion the nightingale still will sing. Because it is neither preaching nor teaching nor commanding nor urging. It is just singing. And in the beginning was not a Word, but a chirrup.

Do you think that creation depends on MAN! It merely doesn't. There are the trees and the grass and birds. I much prefer to think of the lark rising up in the morning upon a human-less world. Man is a mistake, he must go. There is the grass, and hares and adders, and the unseen hosts, actual angels that go about freely when a dirty humanity doesn't interrupt them—and good pure-tissued demons: very nice.

So, after three days of incessant brandy-drinking, he had burned out the youth from his blood, he had achieved this kindled state of oneness with all the world, which is the end of youth's most passionate desire.

She turned, and saw a great white moon looking at her over the hill. And her breast opened to it, she was cleaved like a transparent jewel to its light. She stood filled with the full moon, offering herself. Her two breasts opened to make way for it, her body opened wide like a quivering anemone, a soft, dilated invitation touched by the moon.

Delivered helpless and amazed From the womb of the All, I am waiting dazed For memory to be erased. Then I shall know the Elysium That lies outside the monstrous womb Of time from out of which I come.

Cu tine nu comunic prin simÈ›uri, ci prin spirit. De asta nu ne putem iubi în înÈ›elesul comun. AfecÈ›iunea noastr? nu este dintre acelea pe care le întâlneÈ™ti la tot pasul. ?i totuÈ™i suntem muritori de rând, È™i a tr?i unul al?turi de cel?lalt ar fi cumplit, deoarece cu tine nu pot fi carnal È™i, È™tii tu, a vieÈ›ui de-a pururi mai presus de aceasta a muritorului de rând ar însemna s-o pierzi cu totul.

I have travelled, and looked at the world, and loved it. Now I don't want to look at the world anymore, there seems nothing there. In not-looking, and in not-seeing comes a new strength and undeniable new gods share their life with us, when we cease to see.