Quotes About Mind

If the heart could think it would stop beating.

XIII Lightly, lightly, very lightly A very light wind passes, And it goes away just as lightly, And I don't know what I'm thinking, Nor do I wish to know.

Give to each emotion a personality, to each state of mind a soul.

Ese episodio de la imaginación al que llamamos realidad

To live is to not think.

At other times I wake up from the half sleep I'd fallen into, and hazy images with poetical and unpredictable colours play out their silent show to my inattention.

There's no greater proof of an impoverished mind than its inability to be witty except at other people's expense.

I sleep and unsleep.

I forget. I don't see. I don't think.

metaphysics has always struck me as a prolonged form of latent insanity.

that most people think with their feelings, whereas I feel with my thoughts.

Those who think with their reason tend to be distracted. Those who think with their emotions are sleeping. Those who think with their will are dead.

Durmo e desdurmo.

pude enfim, eu que não dormira, erguer lentamente o corpo exausto de nada da cama de onde pensara o universo

We do not possess our sensations, and through them we cannot possess ourselves.

Besides, what can I expect from myself? My sensations in all their horrible acuity, and a profound awareness of feeling … A sharp mind that only destroys me, and a ferocious capacity for dreaming to keep me entertained … A dead will and a reflection that cradles it

Don't imagine that I write just to write, or to publish, or to produce art. I write because this is the final goal, the supreme refinement, the temperamentally illogical refinement, of my cultivation of states of mind and feeling.

Tudo que se passa no onde vivemos é em nós que se passa. Tudo que cessa no que vemos é em nós que cessa.

Viver é não pensar.

Tiny concerns as well as large worries distract us from ourselves, hindering the peace of mind we all aspire to, whether we know it or not.

A concisão é a luxúria do pensamento.

All that we truly possess are our own sensations; it is in them, rather than in what they sense, that we must base our life's reality.

It seems that civilizations exist only to produce art and literature; words are what speak for them and remain. How do we know that these extra-human figures aren't truly real? It tortures my mind to think this might be the case…

I wonder if a man meditating slowly inside a fast-moving car is moving fast or slowly.