Quotes About Awareness

He wasn't just lucky. He was someone who had the capacity to see his own luck and enjoy it. An awful lot of people who are lucky don't recognize it and make everybody else sick by complaining about their lot when everyone else knows they've had such great luck.

One means of sanity is to retain a hold on the natural world, ... Americans still have that chance, more than many peoples

Wisdom. . .is knowing what you have to accept.

Henry James says somewhere that if you have to make notes on how a thing has struck you, it probably hasn't struck you.

How do I know what I think till I see what I say?

I had stopped my chair at that exact place, coming out, because right there the spice of wisteria that hung around the house was invaded by the freshness of apple blossoms in a blend that lifted the top of my head. As between those who notice such things and those who don't, I prefer those who do.

I can't see that Danish episode as an adventure, or a crisis survived, or a serious quest for anything definable. It was just another happening like today's luncheon, something I got into and got out of. And it reminds me too much of how little life changes: how, without dramatic events or high resolves, without tragedy, without even pathos, a reasonably endowed, reasonably well-intentioned man can walk through the world's great kitchen from end to end and arrive at the back door hungry.

His mouth is full of ecology, his mind is full of fumes.

He looks into his Dixie cup and looks back up as if surprised at what he found there. The future, maybe.

Which demonstrates our need of a sense of history : we need it to know what real injustice looked like.

Henry James says somewhere that if you have to make notes on how a thing has struck you, it probably hasn't struck you. 8 Here is one thing that eventually struck me: March 19, 1938, a Saturday.

Mailbox scenes are the dramatic moments of our undramatic life.

What if we had born Bushmen in the Kalahari? What if our parents had been undernourished villagers in Uttar Pradesh, and we faced the problem of commanding the attention of the world on a diet of five hundred calories a day, and in Urdu? What good is an ace if the other cards in your hand are dogs from every town

When she stopped short just at the lower line of the apple tress, and stood for a moment with her face lifted, I chalked one up in her favor. I had stopped my chair at the exact place, coming out, because right there the spice of wisteria that hung around the house was invaded by the freshness of apple blossoms in a blend that lifted the top of my head. As between those who notice such things and those who don't, I prefer those who do.

I am concerned with gloomier matters: the condition of being flesh, susceptible to pain, infected with consciousness and the consciousness of consciousness, doomed to death and the awareness of death. My life stains the air around me. I am a tea bag left too long in the cup, and my steepings grow darker and bitterer.

This is not a journal", he wrote, "it is not notes for a novel, not a line-a-day record of the trivia my mind dredges up. Call it an attempt to understand." (Bruce) -Wallace Stegner (The Big Rock Candy Mountain, Pg. 436)

The driver of an automobile on a lonely road is a set of perceptions mounted in the forehead of a mechanical monster.

And one trembles to be so understood and, at last,To understand, as if to know becameThe fatality of seeing things too well.

What our eyes behold may well be the text of life but one's meditations on the text and the disclosures of these meditations are no less a part of the structure of reality.

I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know.

I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.

Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.

After the leaves have fallen, we return To a plain sense of things. It is as if We had come to an end of the imagination, Inanimate in an inert savoir.

Where was it one first heard of the truth? The the.