Quotes About Curiosity

We all know how loving ends. But I want to fall in love with the world anyway. To let it crack me open. I want to feel what there is to feel. While I am here.

DNA, you know, is Midas' gold. Everyone who touches it goes mad

And, hey. You. Thanks for being the kind of person who likes to pick up a book. That's a genuinely great thing. I met a librarian recently who said she doesn't read because books are her job and when she goes home, she just wants to switch off. I think we can agree that that's as creepy as hell. Thank you for seeking out stories, the kind that take place in your brain.

Kikkhf fkattkx hfkixu zttkcu," she said.

Secrecy is a vacuum and nothing fills a vacuum like paranoid speculation.

I think the human mind isn't comfortable with mysteries. We're always looking for answers to the unexplained. And if an answer can't come from facts, we'll try to cobble one together from old stories.

They also wouldn't let me climb the waist-thick trunk up to the square bunches of small

shuffle. "I told myself that I had to figure out all the rules of this world, but I get now that I've gotta go further.

Moo," she answered, which could only be taken for "Why not?

What's up, Doc?

But I mean, c'mon! Magic potions? Tell me you wouldn't be losing it too!

challenging readers to watch these old movies "with the eyes of a six-year-old child, eyes that flick constantly from the terror on the screen to the dark, rustling trees outside the window.

What are you, your fucking mother? ~ Mets *SkyWatcher* World W Z

Before he goes into the water, a diver cannot know what he will bring back.

Every day at precisely noon a fellow turns up on a busy street corner with a green flag and a bugle. He waves the flag, blows a few notes on the bugle, utters a mysterious incantation, and goes away. A cop, observing this exercise over a period of weeks, finally gets overwhelmed by curiosity. What the hell are you doing? asks the cop. Keeping giraffes away, says the fellow. The cop says, But there are no giraffes around here. The fellow says, Doing a good job, ain't I?

Who has more reason to worship than the astronomer who has seen the stars? Than the surgeon who has held a heart? Than the oceanographer who has pondered the depths?

Glup. ¿Quién puede hacer esto?

Si tous les hommes se mettaient à chercher une explication à la folie de leurs actes, il y a longtemps qu'il n'y aurait plus d'aventuriers.

I have never written a book that was not born out of a question I needed to answer for myself.

What does myself now say to me? Open the door of Mystery.

I want all my senses engaged. Let me absorb the world's variety and uniqueness.

I find relief from the questions only when I concede that I am not obliged to know everything. I remind myself it is sufficient to know what I know, and that what I know, may not always be true.

That child would stumble over the pattern in a rug.

For years, I had known that there is nothing idle about curiosity, despite the fact that the two words are often used in tandem. Curiosity fidgets, is hard to satisfy, looks for answers even before forming questions.