Quotes About Curiosity

kids now don't have sense enough to know what they don't know.

When I asked my parents how the baby got inside Ma, they both laughed, and then Daddy told me they had made it with their bodies. I pictured them fully clothed, rubbing furiously against each other, like two sticks making fire.

From what people who are on Facebook say, it's a colossal waste of time, but what I don't get is why they're always on it anyway. . . .

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

Are you the new person drawn toward me?

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.

You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin , or even vagueness - ignorance, credulity - helps your enjoyment of these things.

Shut not your doors to me proud libraries.

I heard what was said of the universe, heard it and heard it of several thousand years; it is middling well as far as it goes – but is that all?

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

Though he would sometimes not touch a book for a week, he generally spent part of each day in reading…if he sat in the library an hour, he would have half a dozen volumes around him, on the table, on chairs and on the floor. He seemed to read a few pages here and a few pages there, and pass from place to place, from volume to volume…sometimes (though very rarely) he would get sufficiently interested in a volume to read it all.

Or may-be one who is puzzled at me. As if I were not puzzled at myself!

I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me, In the day among crowds of people sometimes they came upon me, In my walks home late at night or as I lay in my bed they came upon me.

I am he who walks the States with a barb'd tongue, questioning every one I meet

Was somebody asking to see the soul?

Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next

Amikor mellém érsz, idegen, és beszélni kívánsz velem, miért ne beszélnél velem? És miért ne beszélnék veled én?

It was to be a day of queer experiences. He had never realized with how many miracles mere everyday life is besieged.

Science, I am told, is making great strides, experimenting, groping after things which no sane man has ever dreamed of before – without being burned alive for it.

Is there anybody there? said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door.

Lawford had soundlessly stolen a pace or two nearer, and by stopping forward he could, each in turn, scrutinize the little intent company sitting over his story around the lamp at the further end of the table; squatting like little children with their twigs and pins, fishing for wonders on the brink of the unknown.

It seemed to my young mind that there was not a day, scarcely an hour, I lived, but that Life was unfolding itself in ever new and ravishing disguises. I had not begun to be in the least tired or afraid of it. Smallest of bubbles I might be, tossing on the great waters, but I reflected the universe.

When Miss O'Brien looked at me... what did she see that caused her to turn away? What did she see?

Sometimes everybody touches in the dark. You touch to see what you can stand to touch, what you can to feel with your fingers probing parts you never though you could probably probe - Gray