Quotes About Awareness

Humans have a tendency to look for things in the places where it is easiest to search for them rather than in the places where the truth is more likely to be found.

The swiping culture lures us with infinite possibilities, but it also exerts a subtle tyranny. The constant awareness of ready alternatives invites unfavorable comparisons, weakens commitment, and prevents us from enjoying the present moment.

Boccio, author of Mindfulness Yoga, to think about as he leaves the session: "We bitch about our difficulties along the rough surface of our path, we curse every sharp stone underneath, until at some point in our maturation, we finally look down to see that they are diamonds.

Proust, "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." Adele recalls a moment when she experienced

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

we can tolerate seeing

Looking back, he asks himself, "How could I not see?" But it is human nature to cling to our sense of reality, to resist its possible shattering even in the face of irrefutable evidence. I assure him that his "cluelessness" is not something to be ashamed of. This kind of avoidance is not an act of idiocy but an act of self-preservation.

he was blindly ignorant of history and therefore did not fear his role in it

It is the fact that time is passing that creates its preciousness.

Everything that's happening, is happening inside the self. And whatever the self is, it is not William Harding the movie actor or the adulterer. Whatever the self is will not die when your body has worms crawling through your eye sockets.

That's the point of acting: to bring about awareness of humanity, to conjure compassion, and to alleviate shame.

the theater is the living consciousness of the world.

Il razionalismo moderno fa come gli struzzi: mette la testa sotto terra per nascondersi, e si ritiene soddisfatto se riesce a drogare milioni e milioni di uomini con le «istruzioni per l'uso»

Laurel could not see her face but only the back of her neck, the most vulnerable part of anybody, and she thought: Is there any sleeping person you can be entirely sure you have not misjudged?

Once you're into a story everything seems to apply- what you overhear on a city bus is exactly what your character would say on the page you're writing. Wherever you go, you meet a part of your story. I guess you're tuned in for it, and the right things are sort of magnetized.

Fiction shows us the past as well as the present moment in mortal light; it is an art served by the indelibility of our memory, and one empowered by a sharp and prophetic awareness of what is ephemeral. It is by the ephemeral that our feeling is so strongly aroused for what endures, or strives to endure.

It was in a place where the days would go by and surprise anyone that they were over.

But at the next flare a big tree on the hill seemed to turn into fire before their eyes, every branch, twig, and leaf, and a purple cloud hung over it. 'Did you hear that crack?' asked Robbie Bell. 'That were its bones.' 'Why do you little niggers talk so much!' said Doc. 'Nobody's profiting by this information.' 'We always talks this much,' said Sam, 'but now everybody so quiet, they hears us.' (The Wide Net)

The future story writer in the child I was must have taken unconscious note and stored it away then: one secret is liable to be revealed in the place of another that is harder to tell, and the substitute secret when nakedly exposed is often the more appalling.

Is there any sleeping person you can be entirely sure you have not misjudged?

My father knew our way mile by mile; by day or by night, he knew where we were. Everything that changed under our eyes, in the flying countryside, was the known world to him, the imagination to me. Each in our own way, we hungered for all this: my father and I were in no other respect or situation so congenial.

What occupied his full mind was time itself; time passing: he was concentrating

As soon as a man stopped wandering and stood still an looked around him, he found a god in that place.

I knew this, anyway: that my wish, indeed my continuing passion, would be not to point the finger in judgment but to part a curtain, that invisible shadow that falls between people, the veil of indifference to each other's presence, each other's wonder, each other's human plight.