Quotes About Awareness

He shook his head and eyed Roarke. You don't look like a cop. I'm not and thank you for noticing.

Drinking doesn't make problems go away. Just because you can't remember them doesn't mean they're not there.

You shouldn't have private conversations in public facilities at the top of your lungs." Point well taken, Eve was forced to admit.

Sadder and sadder," Peabody said when they were back on the sidewalk. "I guess you don't think of how many people you brush up against, or how they might remember you. The guy at your corner deli, or the owner of your favorite take-out spot. The clerk where you usually shop for clothes. Not to sound too Free-Agey, but it matters. It all matters, what we leave behind with the people we brush up against.

When you find nothing," Morris said, "it means you're eliminating what surrounds the something." "Is that a Zen thing?" Eve questioned. "If not, it should be.

Breath is life. You are not the pebble washed to shore by the wave, but the fish that swims in the wave. Breathe in to fill, to draw in the light. Slow," he told her, "with awareness. Breathe out to empty. And pause, hold in that space between. Now in to fill.

I couldn't find my balance until I stood out there in the mist of the morning and saw you. Simple as that for me, it seems. There she is, so my life's where it should be, whatever's going on around it.

You know better than to blame yourself." "Knowing better doesn't always stop it.

You're thinking I'm not aware of the worst that could happen. I am, but I just don't believe the worst is going to happen.

She didn't hurry as she walked to him. Something told her he was a man too used to people — women certainly — rushing toward him. So she took her time, her long, slow strides flapping her borrowed coat around her chilly legs.

Edward, they might know me. Some people

It's funny how a near death experience makes you realize not making time is wasting time.

You've got eyes on that block.

I'm not stupid." No, Eve thought, you redefine the word.

Reach down inside yourself, Peabody, and get a grip on reality, however slippery.

From my seat, stupid's not listening to your gut.

Understanding wasn't always the answer. He knew that. Accepting was.

He thought of himself not as something heavy that left tracks behind it, but if anything, as a speck upon the surface of an earth too deeply asleep to notice the scratch of ant feet, the rasp of butterfly teeth, the tumbling of dust

I urge you: don't cut short these thought-trains of yours. Follow them through to their end. Your thoughts and your feelings. Follow them through and you will grow with them.

No consciousness that we would recognize as consciousness. Not awareness, as far as we can make out, of a self with a history. What I mind is what tends to come next. They have no consciousness therefore. Therefore what? Therefore we are free to use them for our own ends Therefore we are free to kill them? Why? What is so special about the form of consciousness that we recognize that makes killing a bearer of it a crime while killing an animal goes unpunished?

If he has a last thought, if there is time for a last thought, it will simply be, So this is what a last thought is like.

There is no lie that does not have at its core some truth. One must only know how to listen.

Geschichte lebt nicht, wenn man ihr keine Heimat im Bewusstsein gibt; sie ist eine Last, die kein freier Mensch zu tragen gezwungen werden kann.

To thinking, cogitation, I oppose fullness, embodiedness, the sensation of being – not a consciousness of yourself as a kind of ghostly reasoning machine thinking thoughts, but on the contrary the sensation – a heavily affective sensation – of being a body with limbs that have extension in space, of being alive to the world.