Quotes About Mind

But poets more classical than they have the same essential quality of transmuting ideas into sensations, of transforming an observation into a state of mind.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation, The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name.

Hell is oneself, Hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections

For you can hardly fight anyone for very long without employing his weapons and using his methods; and to fight a man with ideas means adapting your ideas to his mind. Conflict is contact.

He is maintaining substantially the same theory as that of Purgatorio XVIII: "Then, even as fire moves upward by reason of its form, whose nature it is to ascend, there where it endures longest in its material; so the enamoured mind falls to desire, which is a spiritual movement, and never rests until the object of its love makes it rejoice".

Our lives aren't even about doing real things most of the time. We think and talk about people we've never met, pretend to visit places we've never actually been, to discuss things that are just names as though they were as real as rocks or animals or something. Information Age. Hell it's the Imagination Age. We're living in our own minds. No, she decided as the plane began its steep descent, really we're living in other people's minds.

Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey. You'll never lack for a home - unless you lose your head, of course...

An idle mind is the Devil's seedbed.

Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it--memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey. You'll never lack for a home--unless you lose your head, of course...

The solitary mind probes at an ugly thought as a wound, constantly seeing if the pain is less, and in doing so keeps it alive beyond is time.

I never realized imagining could change reality

Often, when she claimed to be cleaning the house, he would come upon her fondling a spoon, attempting—by using psychic energy—to bend it with mind power alone. She insisted this could be done. Yet even if possible, he said, he didn't need or want their spoons bent.

Her immediate, instinctive response was to distract herself with physical pain. She wanted to go to the kitchen and get a knife and cut herself to relieve the pressure and clear her mind.

We could mate. In a year our nestlings would be large enough to mob anyone we like...Should I begin to court you? Do you like grubs or ants better?...I will be here. In case you change your mind about mating.

What is reality after all, he said. Did we not invent all this, are we not God, any and all of us? He spread his own elegant hand on the table. I could pass my hand through the wood as if through water. Any man, any woman, could do it. No chains, no bindings. It's a world of chaos restrained solely by the human mind, which then, afraid of itself, steps back and says, see this colossal machine over which I have no power at all.

I wished I could leave me alone too.

I see the labyrithine trusts would appeal to a scholarly mind.

And I want to tell her… [that] changing your mind is one of the best ways of finding out whether or not you still have one.

That was the advantage of a young mind--believing was easier.

I have a confession. Oh? I can't get you off my mind. His statement robbed her of words. Heat spread down the nape of her neck. He was saying too much. ~Thomas to Chelise

The powers of insanity never slept, always vying for a voice that justified their lies. Insanity. The insane self. The false self. The flesh self. The ego, the mistaken mind, the costume, the roommate…

Be careful, Grace, Bobbie's familiar voice warned. An echo in my mind alone. And then she was there, standing across the street, hidden in shadow, invisible to others because she was there only for me. To protect me, I thought. Against things coming. My father had come and brought the boy, Eli. Protect your heart. Even from the boy? From everything. Yes, I thought, protect my heart from everything.

The difficult thing is not to pick up the information but to recognise it - to accept it into our consciousness. Most of us find it difficult to know what we are feeling about anything. In any situation it is almost impossible to know what is really happening to us. This is one of the penalties of being human and having a brain so swarming with interesting suggestions and ideas and self-distrust.

If you were writing a book to be published, you might be restrained by the fear that your wild imaginings might drive some people crazy. As it is, you are free, you can go off in any direction whatsoever, so long as the flame in your mind burns that way.