Quotes About Discovery

All life is an experiment.

New points of view are not, as a rule, discovered in territory that is already known, but in out-of-the way places that may even be avoided because of their bad name. Carl Jung, Synchronicity: An Acausual Connecting Principle

Dig deep; the water- goodness- is down there. And as long as you keep digging, it will keep bubbling up

Utinam tam facile vera invenire possim quam falsa convincere.

The truth can cause a lot of trouble for those who are not supposed to know it.

There's always something to occupy the inquiring mind.

Being able to read and write did not provide answers to all questions. It led to other questions, and then to others.

So much better to travel than to arrive.

Inside the peach, there is a stone.

Maybe I don't really want to know what's going on. Maybe I'd rather not know. Maybe I couldn't bear to know. The Fall was a fall from innocence to knowledge.

I've learned quite a lot, over the years, by avoiding what I was supposed to be learning.

That room has been static for me so long: an emptiness. a void. a silence containing an unheard story ready for me to unlock. Let there be plot.

Stick a shovel into the ground almost anywhere and some horrible thing or other will come to light. Good for trade, we thrive on bones; without them there'd be no stories.

I'm working on my own life story. I don't mean I'm putting it together; no, I'm taking it apart. If you'd wanted the narrative line you should have asked earlier, when I still knew everything and was more than willing to tell. That was before I discovered the virtues of scissors, the virtues of matches.

As with all knowledge, once you knew it, you couldn't imagine how it was that you hadn't known it before. Like stage magic, knowledge before you knew it took place before your very eyes, but you were looking elsewhere.

She talks with wolves, without knowing what sort of beasts they are: Where have you been all my life? they ask. Where have I been all my life? she replies.

Perhaps they were looking for passion; perhaps they delved into this book as into a mysterious parcel - a gift box at the bottom of which, hidden in layers of rustling tissue paper, lay something they'd always longed for but couldn't ever grasp.

Walking along past the store windows, into which she peers with her usual eagerness, her usual sense that maybe, today, she will discover behind them something that will truly be worth seeing, she feels as if her feet are not on cement at all but on ice. The blade of the skate floats, she knows, on a thin film of water, which it melts by pressure and which freezes behind it. This is the freedom of the present tense, this sliding edge.

Stick a shovel in the ground almost anywhere and some horrible thing or other will come to light.

He'll find out somehow, because journeys end in lovers meeting.

You don't understand much, he says. Why do you think I was lost in the impenetrable forest in the first place?

That birthday was the day I discovered that I was a fraud. Or not a fraud, like a bad magician: a fake, like a fake antique. I was a forgery, done on purpose.

I'm beginning to feel that I've discovered something worth knowing. There's a way out of places you want to leave, but can't. Fainting is like stepping sideways, out of your own body, out of time or into another time. When you wake up it's later. Time has gone on without you.

She'd love to go over him with a fine-toothed comb. Rummage around in him. Turn him upside down. Empty him out.