Quotes About Awareness

We are all, I realise, even as I write this, merely moving closer to our deaths. At the end of this sentence I am closer to mine than I was at the beginning. It's relentless. It's a savage thing. And yet for a long time I've carried with me a sense of life opening out. Evidently it's some kind of protective illusion.

When we don't feel connected to a place, it becomes anonymous, and that anonymity is what allows us to be so destructive: we believe we don't have to care about something we know nothing about. We depersonalize the land and then simply take what we want from it, thinking there won't be any consequences. But when we do this, we're actually destroying our own life-support system.

In truth, how much time do any of us really have?

Everybody dies; that's a fact. Sometimes it blindsides people. Sometimes people get a glimpse of the big picture and decide to cheat.

Life went on whether people participated in it or not

I'll never take it for granted again. I'll always be grateful for every spring that comes along.

Think about this for a moment. Your self-image, your idea of who you are, is just that-an image. Does it really exist? If you are not your ego, then who are you?

Whenever I renew a commitment to studying raptors or gulls or crows or the birds in my backyard, more are given, more show themselves. Our efforts are rewarded, our studies are enhanced in experience. I cannot explain this, and I am reluctant to sound to woo-woo but we can take this as confidently as if it came from the Oracle at Delphi: the more we prepare, the more we are allowed somehow to see.

We practice wonder by resisting the temptation to hurry past things worth seeing, but it can take work to transcend our preconceived standards for what that worth might be.

I waited so eagerly for Carmen to mimic back the concerto's motif. Now I see that she has been calling out something much bigger, much more vital; she has been singing back the song of life, all of life, all the time.

Crows can get us out of bed. And they can do a lot more than that for us if we allow them.

I felt an itch and thought, Is there a tick crawling on me? Right this minute? Burrowing into my skin? And then I thought, Wait. Forget the tick. Why are we always complaining? We get to be alive.

At times, when a deer saw a man walking in a forest, he might prick his ears up and stand still as a statue. Waiting. Wary. Meaning no harm. What are you? asked his ears. And oh. What am I? Sometimes the answer was, You're dead. And the deer crumpled to his knees.

At times, when a deer saw a man walking in the forest, he might prick up his ears and stand still as a statue. Waiting. Wary. Meaning no harm. What are you? asked his ears. And oh. What am I? Sometimes the answer was, You're dead. And the deer crumpled to his knees.

Vigilance fled in old age and man was like the other animals then, who science said could not see themselves. Here man was fully animal again, but he was still tender... you never lost what you were, never lost it fully. There was always the suspicion of a past life that faded and returned.

i didn't know there were different lines of aliveness, and two worlds contained by each other.

The thing i call 'my mind' seems to be kind of like a landlord that doesn't really know its tenants.

once i knew the blinking cat could not really blink, was just paper and ink.

She crouched down, then

Don't leave your home without a notebook, paper scraps, something to write with. * Don't walk into the world without your eyes and ears focused and open. * Don't make excuses about what you don't have or what you would do if you did, use that energy to 'find a way, make a way.

If we looked inside ourselves and remembered how insignificant we are, just for a couple of minutes a day, respect for other people would be an automatic result.

In fact, it seemed to me that every single item on the news – concerning economic doom and political hypocrisy and social breakdown – was not "news" at all. What I could hear was just a series of utterly transparent ploys to frighten and alarm the listeners – and frighten them, moreover, about the wrong things. The

While we look in horror at a badly punctuated sign, the world carries on around us, blind to our plight. We are like the little boy in The Sixth Sense who can see dead people, except that we can see dead punctuation. Whisper it in petrified little-boy tones: dead punctuation is invisible to everyone else - yet we see it all the time .

Viviamo in un'epoca di autismo sociale in cui la gente non capisce perchè dovrebbe considerare l'impatto delle proprie azioni sulla collettività.