Quotes About Inf

Desiring lasts a long time, demands and requests go on to infinity; fulfillment is short and is meted out sparingly. But even the final satisfaction itself is only apparent; the wish fulfilled at once makes way for a new one.

True love doesn't have a happy ending because true love has no ending." —Unknown

We sat up in the trees and disputed about what the end of the world would be like when we got there—whether it was sort of tucked under like the hem of a dress, or just was a sharp drop off into nothingness.

To God, all things are present; there is no past or future - it is all now.

tengo más celos de un pensamiento que de todas las mujeres juntas. El amor es inmenso, pero no es infinito, mientras que la ciencia tiene profundidades sin límites a las que yo no podría verte ir solo.

There is in space a small black holeThrough which, say our astronomers,The whole damn thing, the universe,Must one day fall. That will be all.

There's a Russian proverb: To taste the ocean, all you need is one gulp.

on m a dit : tu n es que cendre et poussière.On a oublié de me dire qu il s agissait de poussières d étoiles

on m a dit : tu n es que cendre et poussier.On a oublié de me dire qu il s agissait de poussieres d etoiles

Evren'in gözünde biz küçücük ve önemsiz k?v?lc?mlardan ba?ka bir ?ey de?iliz. Ke?ke bunu unutmama bilgeli?ini gösterebilseydik..

Infinity is as far as your imagination stretches, and then some.' Iain Cameron Williams, 2018

Our minds have no real or absolute boundaries; on the contrary, we are part of an infinite field of intelligence that extends beyond space and time into realities we have yet to comprehend. The beyul and their dakini emissaries are traces of the original world, inviting us to open to the abiding mystery at the heart of all experience, the inseparability that infuses every action, thought, and intention.

Time was, time will be again.

she knew it must be of stupendous size to be visible from the edge of heaven. A line of black that reached out seemingly to infinity, yet which closed behind her, a border of black circling the world. The edge.

El universo es infinitamente rico y complejo y suceden en él todo tipo de cosas maravillosas. Pero no deberíamos confundir los resultados con las causas e imaginar que el propósito del universo es hacer seres humanos.

THE HEAVENS To the mallet of the Highest Mind The heavens are the smallest possible ball. (Akhlaq-i-Mohsini)

Ningún color viene después del negro.

Para el Mazo de la Mente Superior, los cielos son la bola más pequeña posible.

Cierra los ojos y a obscuras piérdete bajo el follaje rojo de tus párpados. Húndete en esas espirales del sonido que zumba y cae y suena allá, remoto hacia el sitio del tímpano, como una catarata ensordecida. En esa sombra líquida del sueño moja tu desnudez; abandona tu forma, espuma que no se sabe quién dejó en la orilla; piérdete en ti, infinita, en tu infinito ser, mar que se pierde en otro mar; olvídate y olvídame. -Octavio Paz

The principle of the endless melody is the perpetual becoming of a music that never had any reason for starting, any more than it has any reason for ending.

even before trees rocks I was nothing when I'm dead nowhere I'll be nothing

Because consciousness has no mass and extension, no parts or physical properties, it is Nothing, which on the other hand, can generate the matter and energy of the entire universe.

An attempt to wrest from God the prerogatives of absolute freedom and infinity leads to the inversion of Pentecost and what is in effect a new Babel. 'Postmodernism' represents that Babel perfectly, because when each speaks a language unrelated to that of the other - when language is not the basis of the communication that shapes our being - the only outcome can be fragmentation. In that sense, postmodernism is modernity come home to roost.

Religion, mysticism and magic all spring from the same basic 'feeling' about the universe: a sudden feeling of meaning, which human beings sometimes 'pick up' accidentally, as your radio might pick up some unknown station. Poets feel that we are cut off from meaning by a thick, lead wall, and that sometimes for no reason we can understand the wall seems to vanish and we are suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of the infinite interestingness of things.