Quotes About Substance

The preexisting and presumed congruence and harmony of law and statute, justice and legality, substance and process dominated every detail of the legal thinking of the legislative state. Only through the acceptance of these parings was it possible to subordinate oneself to the rule of law precisely in the name of freedom.

At long last, we may be returning to the original two-sided sense of the word virus, which originally signified either a life-giving substance or a deadly venom. Viruses are indeed exquisitely deadly, but they have provided the world with some of its most important innovations. Creation and destruction join together once more.

Now up to the end of the eighteenth century, notably in the work of chemists, heat was treated as a substance, named caloric by the great French chemist Antoine Laurent Lavoisier (1743–1794), who made the first attempt to introduce the methods and concepts of physics laid down by Galileo and Newton into chemistry.

We can readily see the function of nature, how it reconciles discordant things in such a fashion that it reduces all the differences to unity and combines them into one body and one substance: and also it combines them in plants and in seeds, and by the joining of male and female engenders beings according to the natural course.' — Fioretto della Bibbia

We can think of the world as made up of things. Of substances. Of entities. Of something that is. Or we can think of it as made up of events. Of happenings. Of processes. Of something that occurs. Something that does not last, and that undergoes continual transformation, that is not permanent in time.

The primal substance of our thoughts is an extremely rich gathering of information that's accumulated, exchanged, and continually elaborated. Even

Time and space are real phenomena. But they are in no way absolute; they are not at all independent from what happens; they are not as different from the other substances of the world, as Newton had imagined them to be. We can think of a great Newtonian canvas on which the story of the world is drawn. But this canvas is made of the same stuff that everything else in the world is made of, the same substance that constitutes stone, light, and air: it is made of fields.

It was easy for me to understand this language of blood, pain, and creation that begins with physical substance itself when one is a woman.

and there is no simple reason why this happens, no single moment, no physiological event that pushes a heavy drinker across a concrete line into alcoholism. It's a slow, gradual, insidious, elusive becoming.

Indeed, for the denizens of Versailles, clothes and other seemingly superficial emblems remained concrete measures of their success . . . or failure. In this rarefied world, the surface was the substance. And the appearance of power, legible in everything from a slashed sleeve to a patent coat, was the real thing.

It's gratifying to know that you've appeared in someone else's dreams. It's proof that you exist, in a way, proof that you have substance and value outside the walls of your own mind.

You know how they say that religion is the opiate of the masses? Well, I took masses of opiates religiously.

But ultimately you could say that I don't have a problem with drugs so much as I have a problem with sobriety.

Pretty is the queen that rules our land, o'er hard-working peasants known by Substance.

The girl Dora might be water, but his Betty is oil. You can't take oil lightly. It seeps into your skin. It marks you.

Alcohol kills brain cells. We take the only organ in our body that won't grow back, and we kill it for fun.

You can't live on amusement. It is the froth on water -- an inch deep and then the mud.

A thing without a name has no substance. If it existed, it would have a name. And, likewise, if you give a thing a name, somewhere, on some level, the thing named will exist, will come to be.

Steel weighs more than wind.

Pride has no intrinsic substance, being no more than the name given to the soul devouring itself.

I like reality. It tastes of bread.

English proverb

I have always suspected that correctness is the last refuge of those who have nothing to say.

Such stuff the world is made of.