Quotes About Curiosity

She missed -- without knowing what she missed-- paints and crayons

Did you do it yet? He was like a teen-age girl wondering about the virginity of her friend, the friend who has a look, a manner newly minted––different, separate, focused somehow. Did you do it yet? Do you know something both exotic and ordinary that I have not felt? Do you now know what it's like to risk your one and only self? How did it feel? Were you afraid? Did it change you? And if I do it, will it change me too?

None of them knew the downright pleasure of enchantment, of not suspecting but knowing the things behind things.

He had yet to discover what destroyed that desire. But he did not dwell on it. He thought rather of whatever had happened to the curiosity he used to feel. Nothing, nothing, interested him now. Not himself, not other people. Only in drink was there some break, some floodlight, and when that closed, there was oblivion.

Nevertheless, remembering how the curate described what existed before creation, Scully saw dark matter out there, thick, unknowable, aching to made into a world.

In the midst of a pleasant conversation with someone she might say, "Why do you chew with your mouth open?" not because the answer interested her but because she wanted to see the person's face change rapidly. She was completely free of ambition, with no affection for money, property or things, no greed, no desire to command attention or compliments—no ego. For that reason she felt no compulsion to verify herself—be consistent with herself.

The matrix out of which these powerful decisions are born is sometimes called racism, sometimes classicism, sometimes sexism. Each is an accurate term surely, but each is also misleading. The source is a deplorable inability to project, to become the "other," to imagine her or him. It is an intellectual flaw, a shortening of the imagination, and reveals an ignorance of gothic proportions as well as a truly laughable lack of curiosity.

I loved the geography part. Learning about that made me want to read.

Something was scratching on the pane. Again.

In her way, her strangeness, her naïveté, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of an idle imagination. Had she paints, or clay, or knew the discipline of the dance, or strings; had she anything to engage her tremendous curiosity and her gift for metaphor, she might have exchanged the restlessness and preoccupation with whim for an activity that provided her with all she yearned for. And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous.

A feeling of welcome washes over me. I walk toward her, right up to the fence that separates my place from the neighbor's

Well, if the belly buttons are to grow like-lines to give the baby blood, and only girls have babies, how come boys have belly buttons?" Maureen hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted. "But boys have all sorts of things they don't need.

There is really nothing more to say—except why. But since why is difficult to handle, one must take refuge in how.

What are you? Some kinda mermaid?" one man had shouted, and reached hurriedly for his socks.

Jumping from the roof of Mercy was the most interesting thing he had done.

Poems build our capacity for imaginative thinking, create a tolerance for ambiguity, and foster an appreciation for the role of the unknown in human life.

Only thieves and children run.

That's how fossil hunting is: It takes over, like a hunger, and nothing else matters but what you find. And even when you find it, you still start looking again the next minute, because there might be something even better waiting.

I have always admired most those who lead with their eyes, like Mary Anning, for they seem more aware of the world and its workings.

Everybody asks the same questions -- but they don't know that they ask the same questions.

Truly to appreciate what fossils are requires a leap of imagination he was not capable of making.

Although we kept the door ajar so that we could hear, we could not see beyond the gentlemen standing in front of the door in the crowded room. I felt trapped behind a wall of men that separated me from the main event.

Sólo los ladrones y los niños corren.

Yaln?zca h?rs?zlar ve çocuklar koÅŸar.