Quotes About Inf

Vivir: especializarse en el error. Burlarse de las verdades indubitadas, no hacer caso de lo absoluto, tomar a broma la muerte y transformar lo infinito en azar

There is nothing to say about anything. So there can be no limit to the number of books.

Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be. — Emil Cioran, The Book of Delusions (? Humanitas, January 1, 1991) Originally publishedJanuary 1, 1936

La desproporción entre la infinitud del mundo y la finitud del hombre es un serio motivo de desesperación;

Senza?ii de avorton—?i senza?ia unui dumnezeu—, altele n-am cunoscut. Punct ?i infinit, dimensiunile mele, modurile mele de existen??.

Zi dup? zi, m? târ?sc pe o bucat? de spaÈ›iu, la marginea Universului, în mijlocul unei infinit??i de cuvinte nepronunÈ›ate.

This situation will last until the end of time. And it is to this situation that they owe the mishap of not perishing . . .

So far as modern science is concerned, we have to abandon completely the idea that by going into the realm of the small we shall reach the ultimate foundations of the universe. I believe we can abandon this idea without any regret. The universe is infinite in all directions, not only above us in the large but also below us in the small.

One cannot long remain so absorbed in contemplation of emptiness without being increasingly attracted to it. In vain one bestows on it the name of infinity; this does not change its nature. When one feels such pleasure in non-existence, one's inclination can be completely satisfied only by completely ceasing to exist.

What does the future, that half of time, matter to the man who is infatuated with eternity?

The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside.... The Brain is just the weight of God— For—Heft them—Pound for Pound— And they will differ—if they do— As Syllable from Sound.

When we speak of God, we speak of one and all, for all, in all, through all and of all.

Silence is the only weapon by which such victims can conquer; it baffles the Cossack charges of envy, the savage skirmishings of suspicion; it does at times give victory, crushing and complete--for what is more complete than silence? it is absolute; it is one of the attributes of infinity.

Is not the fraction which you know, in relation to their totality, what a single number is to infinity?

We cannot measure the vast orbit of the Divine thought of which we are but an atom as small as God is great; but we can feel its vastness, we can kneel, adore, and wait.

Time expands and contracts. When it expands, it's like pitch: it folds people in its arms and holds them forever in its embrace. It doesn't let us go so easily. Sometimes you go back again to the place you've just come from, stop and close your eyes, and realize that not a second has passed, and time just leaves you there, stranded, in the darkness

Time simply floated open and started to expand. Time held the two of us in light, inside a space so vast it might have reached the heavens, and turned eternal.

And then, suddenly, time was flowing differently than usual. It didn't turn back, or even pause. Time simply floated open and started to expand. Time held the two of us in light, inside a space so vast it might have reached the heavens, and turned eternal.

Il tempo si allunga e si contrae. Quando si allunga, come una gomma ci imprigiona all'infinito nelle sue braccia. Non lascia liberi così facilmente. Ci troviamo risospinti nel luogo dove eravamo prima, o abbandonati nel buio, dove non si sposta neanche di un secondo, ignorando i nostri sensi tesi e gli occhi serrati.

Time expands and contracts. When it expands, it's like pitch: it folds people in its arms and holds them forever in its embrace. It doesn't let us go very easily. Sometimes you go back again to the place you've just come from, stop and close your eyes, and realize that not a second has passed, and time just leaves you there, stranded, in the darkness.

There was all the time in the world. In the endless repetition of other nights, other mornings, this moment, too, might become a dream.

Old Hamlet asks, "What is this quintessence of dust?" Dust it's a dry word, with Saharas of space between each letter.

When we say that God is infinite, we do not mean that He is of immeasurable size and duration, but that He is beyond all space and time. He is neither in space nor in time; for this reason He is eternal and infinite, and therefore He is also incomprehensible.

I know a logic beyond time and space; that is why I am so illogical, why space cannot hold me nor time make me old.