Quotes About Presence

La vie est trop courte pour qu'on soit pressé.

To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.

No method nor discipline can supersede the necessity of being forever on the alert. What is a course of history, or philosophy, or poetry, no matter how well selected, [...] compared with the discipline of looking always at what is to be seen?

You only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns.

Wir müssen lernen, wieder wach zu werden. und uns wach zu erhalten, nicht durch mechanische Mittel, sondern durch das unaufhörliche Erwarten des Sonnenaufgangs, welches uns nicht verlassen darf im tiefsten Schlaf

the poem of the world is uninterrupted, but few are the ears that hear it.

Seveda pa nam ne bo ni? koristilo, da svoje korake usmerimo v gozdove, ?e nas ne bodo tudi zares ponesli tja. Vznemirim se, kadar se mi zgodi, da s svojim telesom potujem že kak kilometer skozi gozd, ne da bi tja prispel tudi v duhu.

To affect the quality of the day... that is the art of life.

To be awake is to be alive. I have never yet met a man who was quite awake. How could I have looked him in the face? We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep.

I don't care about anything but you, and that's enough for the present. I want you to be happy--not to think of anything sad; only to feel that I'm near you and I love you. Why should there be pain? In such hours as this what have we to do with pain? That's not the deepest thing; there's something deeper.

He was there or was not there: not there if I didn't see him.

She had never yet encountered a personage so exotic, and she always felt more at ease in the presence of anything strange. It was the usual things of life that filled her with silent rage; which was natural enough inasmuch as, to her vision, almost everything that was usual was inqiuitous.

He was absolutely, on this occasion, a living, detestable, dangerous presence.

If I could stay — For me you'll always be here, she softly interrupted.

The image of the presence, whatever it was, waiting there for him to go--this image had not yet been so concrete for his nerves as when he stopped short of the point at which certainty would have come to him. For, with all his resolution, or more exactly with all his dread, he did stop short--he hung back from really seeing. The risk was too great and his fear too definite: it took at this moment an awful specific form.

SHE COULDN'T have said what it was, in the conditions, that renewed the whole solemnity, but by the end of twenty minutes a kind of wistful hush had fallen upon them, as before something poignant in which her visitor also participated. That was nothing verily but the perfection of the charm—or nothing rather but their excluded disinherited state in the presence of it. The

He was allying himself to science, for what was science but the absence of prejudice backed by the presence of money? His life would be full of machinery, which was the antidote to superstition ...

It has been everything for me to see you.

I shall always think of you; I shall never think of anyone else. I came to England simply because you are here; I couldn't stay at home after you had gone: I hated the country because you were not in it. If I like this country at present it is only because it holds you.

I love you. It's because I love you that I'm here.

What had come to pass within his walls lingered there as an obsession importunate to all his senses; it lived again, as a cluster of pleasant memories, at every hour and in every object; it made everything but itself irrelevant and tasteless. It remained, in a word, a conscious watchful presence, active on its own side, forever to be reckoned with, in face of which the effort at detachment was scarcely less futile than frivolous.

I know how you suffer, and that's why I'm here.

The mere sense of his grasp in her own covered the ground of loss just as much as the ground of gain. His presence was like an object brought so close to her face that she couldn't see round its edges

They indeed had been wondrous for others while he was but wondrous for himself; which, however, was exactly the cause of his haste to renew the wonder by getting back, as he might put it, into his own presence. That had quickened his steps and checked his delay. If his visit was prompt it was because he had been separated so long from the part of himself that alone he now valued.