Quotes About Meditation

Press them continually with memory and dream and have them waste their Present there.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

Our silence is a black cavern.

One of the best means for this is the Eightfold Path expounded by the Buddha: 1. Right view 2. Right intention 3. Right speech 4. Right action 5. Right livelihood 6. Right effort 7. Right mindfulness 8. Right meditation

The reason I talk to myself is that I'm the only one whose answers I accept.

The reason I talk to myself is because I'm the only one whose answers I accept.

If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.

Be still and cool in thine own mind and spirit.

Thoughts crawled around my head in all directions like big lazy caterpillars. I gave up, closed my eyes, and let myself drift.

Two things fill the mind with renewed and increasing awe and reverence the more often and the more steadily that they are meditated on: the starry skies above me and the moral law inside me. I have not to search for them and conjecture them as though they were veiled in darkness or were in the transcendent region beyond my horizon; I see them before me and connect them directly with the consciousness of my existence

Thinking is conversation with oneself.

Nu se poate înv??a filozofia; se poate înv??a doar filozofarea.

Dwell with yourself, and you will know how short your household stuff is.

abrikostræerne findes, abrikostræerne findes

This sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart...

Only the deeper parts of the mind have so little sense of time.

I tried deep breathing, but seemed to lose contact with myself between each breath, so that the next one was always an emergency. I began to feel faint.

The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself which to turn into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction.

As it is I crawl on everyday towards the tomb. When I wake in the morning I think first of death, do you?

As for me — there is another partner waiting for me, a teacher whom I knew long ago — his name is solitude. I am glad to be back here among my English friends . . . But I shall come back here to an empty flat and close the door, and I shall lean back against the door, as I recall I used to when I was young, and breathe deeply and feel the deep relief and liberation of coming home to solitude, coming home to myself .

She thought, I am becoming a recluse. Yes, that's it, that is the way.

There was a kind of sleeping or half-sleeping which I sometimes tried to achieve (especially at weekends) when I lay like a floating turtle, just breaking the surface of consciousness, aware and yet not self-aware, not yet tormented by being a particular person.

It was extremely difficult to keep up any pace over the rocks since they were so unpredictable and devoid of reason. Their senselessness had never so much impressed me.

There is something compelling about the sound of a fountain in a deserted place. It murmurs about what things do when no one watches them. It is the hearing of an unheard sound.