Best 2279 quotes in «alive quotes» category

For it was the light, that was flowing in her veins but not blood. Every time she was wounded, she killed the demons in the dark, rather than feeding and keeping them alive.

For it is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new,unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive.

For three years, ever since he had lived in Stanton, he had come here for his only relaxation, to swim, to rest, to think, to be alone and alive, whenever he could find one hour to spare, which had not been often. In his new freedom the first thing he had wanted to do was to come here, because he knew that he was coming for the last time.

From personal experience, I know for sure that the number one thing that saddens the dead more than our grief — is not being conscious of their existence around us. They do want you to talk to them as if they were still in a physical body. They do want you to play their favorite music, keep their pictures out, and continue living as if they never went away. However, time and "corruption" have blurred the lines between the living and the dead, between man and Nature, and between the physical and the etheric. There was a time when man could communicate with animals, plants, the ether, and the dead. To do so requires one to access higher levels of consciousness, and this knowledge has been hidden from us. Why? Because then the plants would tell us how to cure ourselves. The animals would show us their feelings, and the dead would tell us that good acts do matter. In all, we would come to know that we are all one. And most importantly, we would be alerted of threats and opportunities, good and evil, truth vs. fiction. We would have eyes working for humanity from every angle, and this threatens "the corrupt". Secret societies exist to hide these truths, and to make sure lies are preserved from generation to generation.

Fulfill yourself and Feel Alive Feel Alive and Fulfill Yourself

Funny, how it took a little bit of pain to remember that certain parts of yourself were alive.

George is very far, right now, from sneering at any of these fellow creatures. They may be crude and mercenary and dull and low, but he is proud, is glad, is almost indecently gleeful to be able to stand up and be counted in their ranks—the ranks of that marvelous minority, The Living. They don't know their luck, these people on the sidewalk, but George knows his—for a little while at least—because he is freshly returned from the icy presence of The Majority, which Doris is to join. I am alive, he says to himself, I am alive! And life-energy surges hotly through him, and delight, and appetite. How good to be in a body—even this beat-up carcass—that still has warm blood and semen and rich marrow and wholesome flesh! The scowling youths on the corners see him as a dodderer no doubt, or at best as a potential score. Yet he claims a distant kinship with the strength of their young arms and shoulders and loins. For a few bucks he could get any one of them to climb into the car, ride back with him to his house, strip off butch leather jacket, skin-tight Levi's, shirt and cowboy boots and take a naked, sullen young athlete, in the wrestling bout of his pleasure. But George doesn't want the bought unwilling bodies of these boys. He wants to rejoice in his own body—the tough triumphant old body of a survivor. The body that has outlived Jim and is going to outlive Doris.

God we must look so lame, but it doesn't much matter when you have just now realized, all the time later, that you are still alive.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –

Having regrets is proof of being alive.

Haven’t you learned yet? Someone has to be the villain so everyone else can stay alive.

He finds it extraordinary that on some mornings, just after he has woken up, as he bends down to tie his shoes, he is flooded with a happiness so intense, a happiness so naturally and harmoniously at one with the world, that he can feel himself alive in the present, a present that surrounds him and permeates him, that breaks through him with the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that he is alive. And the happiness he discovers in himself at that moment is extraordinary.

He had become completely mad in his movements; He seemed to be doing everything at the same time. It was a shaking of the head, up and down, sideways; jerky, vigorous hands; quick walking, sitting, crossing the legs, uncrossing, getting up, rubbing the hands, rubbing his fly, hitching his pants, looking up and saying 'Am,' and sudden slitting of the eyes to see everywhere; and all the time he was grabbing me by the ribs and talking, talking

He didn’t remember the very first time he actually died very well. It wasn’t as bad as remediation, but he remembered being afraid and worried… and when he found himself alive again a few hours later with Mearth’s wild green eyes peering down at him, he remembered still being afraid and worried. It was strange, he thought, to be afraid of being alive… but being alive was worse than being dead in his mind.

He has the feeling that merely by being alive he is blocking his own way. From this sense of hindrance, in turn, he deduces the proof that he is alive.

He studied the room, looking for the Oracle, but he couldn't see anyone else in attendance - at least not anyone alive.

He hurt everywhere, so at least he must be alive. Another comforting thought because, despite everything, he wanted to be alive. It was the business of living he wanted nothing to do with.

He put his arms around me and squeezed tight, so that I felt the heaves of his chest as we realized over and over again that we were still alive. I realized it in waves and we held on to each other crying and I thought "God we must look so lame," but it doesn't matter when you have just now realized, all the time later, that you are still alive.

He's seen me at my stray dog lowest and still he stood behind me, did everything he could to help me. He saw the future I could have before I even wanted it for myself, and he was the one to push me towards it. That's faith. Growing up, I thought faith was about believing Jesus died for us and that if I held on to that, I'd get to meet him when I died too. But faith doesn't mean that to me anymore. Now it means someone seeing something in you that you've never seen in yourself, and not giving up until you see it too. I want that. I miss that.

he knew in his body, even if he hadn’t yet put it together in his mind, that in America the worst thing you could be was a black man. Worse than dead, you were a dead man walking.

He moves me to madness. He's an indescribable poetic impression. He's Persian blood re-defined by Parisian culture, softened in the right places, yet, fierce where it counts. Dreamy. The kind of boy you can't get too close to, because you might get lost in his brown eyes and melancholy.

Here's the thing," he said. "People see me as a bridge. I'm not as alive as I used to be, but I'm not yet dead. I'm sort of...in-between

I am here. I am in the present tense. I'm not always here, and sometimes here is a very difficult place. Sometimes it is a labyrinth, or a Minotaur, or a rope I can neither let go of nor follow. It's hard to find the right words, but I guess I would say that it's something like feeling the floor. And that it is my privilege to feel it.

Home should be a warm, liveable place that is alive, a place to please the eye and soothe the senses in scale, curves, colour, variety, pattern and texture. -Josef Frank

How do you describe that we are alive, but not a an object from a picture. What makes you to think that you are not an image?

Hungry for beautiful words, the fox comes rooting around in the hedge, almost too close to the fire. He reads my mind with one glance and is gone. All my poetry is now trotting around the bushes inside him, maybe some day to be partly eaten or left to rot. He understands being alive for as long as he can be, and does not worry about why, or what might happen afterwards.

I am not a Sunday morning inside four walls with clean blood and organized drawers. I am the hurricane setting fire to the forests at night when no one else is alive or awake however you choose to see it and I live in my own flames sometimes burning too bright and too wild to make things last or handle myself or anyone else and so I run. run run run far and wide until my bones ache and lungs split and it feels good. Hear that people? It feels good because I am the slave and ruler of my own body and I wish to do with it exactly as I please

I am being kept alive by a daily dose of drugs.

I am happy to be alive.

I am obscure to myself. I let myself happen. I unfold only in the now. I am rudely alive.

I am still alive.

I can see the Devil that dances at night, inside my eyes, and it makes me cry, because I feel so alive

I do not worship a DEAD and buried Christ at Calvary. I worship a ressurected and LIVING Christ in Heaven! Jesus Christ is alive.

I didn’t know that princes sat on wooden benches.” Prince Rakturan’s grin was humorless and threatening - as usual. “I didn’t know that peasant girls ran off to fight Magikas. We learn new things every day. It’s what makes being alive so exciting, am I right?

I can see why some people become “beach bunnies”: you don’t have to think about things or even talk when you’re on the beach. You just sit here and feel good about being alive.

I could burn a forest down with these feelings--feelings desperate to erupt. Volcanic. A cauldron expanding with the fullness of longings, ready to scorch this backward little village.

I feel like I’m going to get in a fight one day about the validity of falling in love so fast. Not a heated one because why would I give a shit if some other person gets it or not? Right now, it’s no longer the big flooding rush like when I saw her naked shoulder. It’s just this honest, frank truth. I love Evelyn Shriner. Love doesn’t start with need. Love meets love and just fucking recognizes itself. I’m supposed to be scared to death. Modern man isn’t built for these kinds of things. But I feel good.

If a book is not alive in the writer's mind, it is as dead as year-old horse-shit

I don't live to work. I work to live. Before I die, I know I lived.

I don’t want anything else bad to happen,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “I’m so sick to death of bad things happening, of seeing bad things that happened in the past! And I’m guilty of so many things. I’m sorry that I killed Mrs. Matthias and wrecked her stupid greenhouse back in the Eighties and I’m sorry I left you here alone while I went around the world.” “I wasn’t alone though, I knew you were doing what you wanted to do and that you were still alive, so I wasn’t really alone, I knew you were still there somewhere,” Alecto told her. His damaged smile and downcast, sorrowful eyes were draped in the shadow of the night, saving Mandy the trouble of seeing.

I feel dead inside anyway. Cara made me feel alive. Maybe that's why I can't let her go. I don't want to feel dead anymore. What I think is, I need a way to feel alive that doesn't require someone else to make it happen.

I feel sad for the people who I hear always plan, plan, plan the next day's event to occur. Life only stands still for them.

If ever you feel lost, terrified, alone, emotionally and physically drained...when you feel like depression has overpowered you, and that the world itself, has devoured you...just remember that you are not alone, you are loved, you are a beautiful story waiting to be told.” -Nina Jean Slack, Once Lost, Forever Found (Vol. #1)

If I can stay alive long enough to see the demolition of the biologically toxic Mauna Kea Observatories (MKO), then I will consider my life to be complete.

If GOD can raise a dead man, then He can raise a living man's dead anything.

If there's one thing I can say when it's my time to look back over my glorious life is I lived, bravely and fiercly in the chaos of it all.

If the Mob was after you, the last thing you felt was alive. If the Mob was after you, it was only a matter of time before you were as dead as a doorknob. But standing outside in the middle of winter, with the world in a coma, she felt alive.

If there is love the fire is alive, it only dies when there is not enough burning desire.

If you are reading this you are alive, be thankful that you have risen to see another day!

If you don't make peace with your own mortality, you'll never know what it's like to truly be alive.