Quotes About Emptiness

It is a strange thing how quickly the body dies. How fragile a force our presence is. In an instant the soul is gone—leaving an empty, insignificant vessel in its stead.

They treasure names and empty appearances above nearly all else, harming themselves and others just to protect them. They want to get money, or a good reputation, or a good relationship. They struggle desperately to get high positions. People always subject their minds to the worst kind of abuse and suffering just to try to get and then keep these empty, impermanent things.

At the core of her senseless actions, she vaguely perceived that she yearned for something. A something that would provide her with a sure sense of fulfillment. But she could not fathom what that something might be.

The root of all that exists, Samsara and nirvana, is one's own mind. Primordially, mind is emptiness. Merge into the sky-like absolute expanse, Empty, luminous, beyond clinging. Outside, inside; eyes open or closed, Day, night; asleep or awake: No difference. During practice, after practice, Mind, appearances: Blend them. Continuously, without wavering, Merge completely with this vibrant, sky-like state.

Every movement is a blend of fantasy with reality. Emptiness fills when into your world arrives dance

Love came and emptied me of self, every vein and every pore, made into a container to be filled by the Beloved. Of me, only a name is left, the rest is You my Friend, my Beloved.

A great emptiness had been carved out of my soul; I watched all the effervescence of the world with a derisive smile.

Hope had been beaten to death. She dried her eyes, shut down her heart, and plunged herself into an emotional coma. So much easier not to feel.

Today I keep thinking of all the people who have left and never returned — my brothers, Khan Tegus, our guards, this entire city. What a strange, dark world that swallows people whole.

I tried. Can't do it. Brain's empty.

Yesterday your heart was broken because they left you

How do they do it, the ones who make love without love? How do they come to the come to the come to the God come to the still waters, and not love the one who came there with them, light rising slowly as steam off their joined skin?

And slowly he starts to seem more far away, he seems to waft, drift at a distance

But if feels as if he's not here— though he's here, it feels as if, for me, there's no one there

Maybe I'm half over who he was, but not who I thought he was, and not over the wound, sudden deathblow as if out of nowhere, though it came from the core of our life together.

It's so quiet, and empty, when he's left. I feel like a landscape, a ground without a figure.

But look! I am starting to give him up! I believe he is not coming back. Something has died, inside me, believing that

I feel like a landscape, a ground without a figure.

I do not need to understand words to know he is disappointed I am not a boy. Some things need no translation. And I know, because my body remembers without benefit of words, that men who do not welcome girl-babies will not treasure me as I grow to woman - though he call me princess just because the Guru told him to. I have come so far, I have borne so much pain and emptiness! But men have not yet changed.

Picture the rest of your life without Del and give me a one word description of it." "I can't decide between bleak or pathetic," Tyler admitted finally. "There you go.

Alone, one feels the whole universe, and none of one's personality.

There is a kind of sadness in not wanting the things that give so many other people their life's meaning.

That makes our hearts sink more than anything else, really, that the childless and the mothers are equivalent, but it must be so—that there is an exact equivalence and an equality, equal in emptiness and equal in fullness, equal in experiences had and equal in experiences lost, neither path better and neither path worse, neither more frightening or less riddled with fear.

It was the sound of him alive, and the very last sound he made. Though the last sound he made was no sound at all-the sound of the breath that did not come.