Best 654 quotes in «blind quotes» category

People who live up to their words shouldn't make blind promises.

Religion searches for reason, and never finds purpose. They think the purpose is to have better reasons. The people are blind, and their religion does not want them to see. Religion gives them reasons based on principles instead of eyes to see.

Poets, like the blind, can see in the dark.

Princess Caspida, I have nothing but respect and admiration for you. Truly you will be the queen this city needs. But I can’t marry you.” The princess stands still as stone, her face unreadable. “Why not, Prince Rahzad?” “I am sorry,” he replies. “The truth is, I am in love, but not with you.” He turns to me, and my spirit takes flight like a flock of doves, startled and erratic. I cannot move, cannot speak, as he takes my hands in his and looks me earnestly in the eye. He presses the ring into my palm, and the gold feels as if it burns my skin. “This belongs to you, and you alone. I’ve been so blind, Zahra. So caught up in the past that I’ve failed to see what’s happening in front of me. I’ve been such an idiot, I don’t know how I can expect anything from you. But I have to try. I have to tell the truth, and the truth is . . . I love you.

Shame on the misguided, the blinded, the distracted and the divided. Shame. You have allowed deceptive men to corrupt and desensitize your hearts and minds to unethically fuel their greed.

She had seen this relationship dying before it ever lived, but allowed optimism and lust to blind her.

She sheltered her colors in the dark, where others were blind to see; I caught a glimpse of her lastly when she gave me a chance, before disappearing into the day. There was beauty locked in her that unfolded like an umbrella's claw, her true self that desired compassion, trust, protection and the potential to soar. But I missed to late, that what I wasn't looking for, when she left her reasons in the rain.

Richard Dawkins regards faith as an evil to be eliminated; he takes all religious faith to be blind faith. (Dawkins says) ‘Scientific belief is based on publicly checkable evidence, religious faith not only lacks evidence, its independence from evidence is its joy, shouted from the rooftops.’ However, taking Dawkins own advice we ask: where is the evidence that religious faith is not based on evidence? Mainstream Christianity will insist that faith and evidence are inseparable. Indeed, faith is a response to evidence, not a rejoicing in the absence of evidence. The apostle Paul says what many pioneers of modern science believed, that nature itself is part of the evidence for the existence of God ,‘ Since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities- his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made. So that men are without an excuse.’ Dawkins’ definition of faith turns out to be the direct opposite of the biblical one. Curious that he does not seem to be aware of the discrepancy.

She walked empty handed in the street, where everyone sold their dreams. Ignoring the cold stares of the demon, which guarded it and always craved for the taste of the things every soul hid. At the dead end, it leapt on her. Digging the nails deep into her chest, in the search of the dreams, she hid. Only to be destroyed by the light shot from her heart. The light that blinded the whole world, setting the dreams of others free.

She was like a Rubik's Cube in a blind man's hand - impossible to figure out. And yet I was the blind man determined to try.

Sometimes your pledges become your problems.

Recently I am so much in to numbers, equations & scientific facts! I learned how to link logic to reason, and to be honest sometimes I couldn't, simply because logic is not stander defined, it defers from one to another (it is the science of reasoning), that made me think deeply about life, what is the real reason behind all the unbelievable stories in my life, how can I discover the logic behind what is happening behind the scene! Then it hit me, I discovered that everything is supernaturally working in harmony to serve me at the end, no matter how hard it felt ! I was granted hope in different ways, only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found, Because of the only logic I found I am able to be alive now! Amazing how God love us, yet we are so blind to see it, because we accept blessings as a given right!

So when they win, it's their hard work And when they lose, it's their bad luck

Sunglasses are more useful to a blind man than freedom of speech is to a man who does not think for himself.

That invisibility to which I refer occurs because of a peculiar disposition of the eyes of those with whom I come in contact. A matter of the construction of their INNER eyes, those eyes with which they look through their physical eyes upon reality.

The Americans have no sense of doom, none whatever. They do not recognize doom when they see it.

The bast, dispersing in shreds in the sunset whispered "Time has begun." The son, Adam, stripped naked, descended into the Old Testament of his native land and arrayed himself in bast; a wreath of roadside field grass he placed upon his brow, a staff, not a switch, he pulled from the ground, flourishing the birch branch like a sacred palm. On the road he stood like a guard. The dust-gray road ran into the sunset. And a crow perched there, perched and croaked, there where the celestial fire consumed the earth. There were blind men along the dust-gray road running into the twilight. Antique, crooken, they trailed along, lonely and sinister silhouettes, holding to one another and to their leader's cane. They were raising dust. One was beard-less, he kept squinting. Another, a little old man with a protruding lip, was whispering and praying. A third, covered with red hair, frowned. Their backs were bent, their heads bowed low, their arms extended to the staff. Strange it was to see this mute procession in the terrible twilight. They made their way immutable, primordial, blind. Oh, if only they could open their eyes, oh if only they were not blind! Russian Land, awake! And Adam, rude image of the returned king, lowered the birch branch to their white pupils. And on them he laid his hands, as, groaning and moaning they seated themselves in the dust and with trembling hands pushed chunks of black bread into their mouths. Their faces were ashen and menacing, lit with the pale light of deadly clouds. Lightning blazed, their blinded faces blazed. Oh, if only they opened their eyes, oh, if only they saw the light! Adam, Adam, you stand illumined by lightnings. Now you lay the gentle branch upon their faces. Adam, Adam, say, see, see! And he restores their sight. But the blind men turning their ashen faces and opening their white eyes did not see. And the wind whispered "Thou art behind the hill." From the clouds a fiery veil began to shimmer and died out. A little birch murmured, beseeching, and fell asleep. The dusk dispersed at the horizon and a bloody stump of the sunset stuck up. And spotted with brilliant coals glowing red, the bast streamed out from the sunset like a striped cloak. On the waxen image of Adam the field grass wreaths sighed fearfully giving a soft whistle and the green dewy clusters sprinkled forth fiery tears on the blind faces of the blind. He knew what he was doing, he was restoring their sight. ("Adam")

The blind can see God, the deaf can hear Him, the mute can speak to Him, and the lame can run to Him.

The blind can see love, the deaf can hear love, the mute can express love, and the disabled can carry love.

The blind also cry. (Les aveugles aussi pleurent)

The blind eyes are dead. But we are our hope. (Les yeux d'aveugles sont morts. - Mais nous sommes notre espoir.)

Standing at a certain distance, you might have a different perception of me and my tiny universe. But darling, is my love too less or are you blind to walk away from a universe that only consists of you?

The Lies, are so many, that eyes are getting blind.

The maid came in to light up and soon it would be time to go upstairs and change for dinner. I thought this woman one of the most fascinating I had ever seen. She had a long thin face, dead white, or powdered dead white. Her hair was black and lively under her cap, her eyes so small that the first time I saw her I thought she was blind. But wide open, they were the most astonishing blue, cornflower blue, no, more like sparks of blue fire. Then she would drop her eyelids and her face would go dead and lifeless again. I never tired of watching this transformation.

The moment you are wrapped up in the world, you become blind to the things wrapped in the mysteries.

The more I got to know people, the more I realized we were all just a bunch of frightened idiots walking around in the dark, bumping into each other and panicking for no reason at all. So I started turning on a light. I stopped thinking of people as mobs. Hordes. Faceless masses. I tried, really hard, to stop assuming I had people figured out, especially before I’d ever even spoken to them. I wasn’t great at this—and I’d probably have to work at it for the rest of my life—but I tried. I really did. It scared me to realize that I’d done to others exactly what I hadn’t wanted them to do to me: I made sweeping statements about who I thought they were and how they lived their lives; and I made broad generalizations about what I thought they were thinking, all the time.

Then too, you're constantly being bumped against by those of poor vision. Or again, you doubt if you really exist. You wonder whether you aren't simply a phantom in other people's minds. Say, a figure in a nightmare which the sleeper tries with all his strength to destroy.

Sometimes people did this, closed their eyes for a few seconds and imagined it gave them insights into what it was like to be her. Only, at the end, they could still open their eyes and see.

The fact that people are in positions does not justify the means that they are leaders. A leader can be blind and to know this, check his sense of vision.

The guy next to you, is probably saying some kind a truth behind everything or just a peace of it. Nobody knows! ... Now your hands bloody, new mysteries new secrets found and some people don't want you to know them. So they kill the person to which you get in contact.... (Blindspot Series!)

The jusitce is blind. Turn the surveillance cameras off!

The prospect of happiness has a way of clouding up a person’s vision. When you are in love, the kind of love that comes way too fast and way too strong, the flaws of that person you love seem to disappear. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened to me.

The only time for blind patriotism is when standing blindfolded before a firing squad.

The path of life is strewn with many perils and the folly of knowledge is one of the greatest dangers. Wisdom is a treacherous weapon, little master, for it is sundered from compassion. All too often the end of the journey gains more import than it should and the wise become blind to the road and the method of their passing.

There is light even in the world of the blind, but none in the world of the ignorant.

There is a master way with words which is not learned but is instead developed: a deaf man develops exceptional vision, a blind man exceptional hearing, a silent man, when given a piece of paper...

There is no future in the past. Any tour into the past is perhaps courage to live at the average level as you did; old and cold, blind and blunt! Come out! Out of the past and change position. You matter, your future matters

The world has been blind in the presence of artificial lights.They blame about the darkness in broad daylight.

The world has been blind in the presence of artificial lights.They blame on the darkness in broad daylight.

Though love may be blind, it sees much; though it may be deaf, it hears much; though it may be mute, it says much; and though it may be lame, it does much.

To a blind man, pawn shop and porn shop are one. To an unintelligent man, oversleeping and sleeping over are opposites.

To be blind momentarily when light hits your eyes is better than to be blind permanently when darkness hits your soul.

To the short-sighted, through the fog, God must be a monster.

The universe is a masterpiece but is of little value to the blind.

Trust is like a two-way mirror, transparent on one side, with a blind dimness unable to see through on the other side.

There is none so blind as the one who does not want to see.

We curl around our own pain until we can’t see beyond ourselves. You want to walk on? Walk out of that shadow.

To understand this new frontier, I will have to try to master one of the most difficult and counterintuitive theories ever recorded in the annals of science: quantum physics. Listen to those who have spent their lives immersed in this world and you will have a sense of the challenge we face. After making his groundbreaking discoveries in quantum physics, Werner Heisenberg recalled, "I repeated to myself again and again the question: Can nature possibly be so absurd as it seemed to us in these atomic experiments?" Einstein declared after one discovery, "If it is correct it signifies the end of science." Schrödinger was so shocked by the implications of what he'd cooked up that he admitted, "I do not like it and I am sorry I had anything to do with it." Nevertheless, quantum physics is now one of the most powerful and well-tested pieces of science on the books. Nothing has come close to pushing it off its pedestal as one of the great scientific achievements of the last century. So there is nothing to do but to dive headfirst into this uncertain world. Feynman has some good advice for me as I embark on my quest: "I am going to tell you what nature behaves like. If you will simply admit that maybe she does behave like this, you will find her a delightful, entrancing thing. Do not keep saying to yourself, if you can possibly avoid it, 'But how can it be like that?' because you will get 'down the drain,' into a blind alley from which nobody has yet escaped. Nobody knows how it can be like that.

We ignore what we are doing until it is too late to alter it. We never allow ourselves quite to focus upon moments of decision; and these are often in fact hard to find even if we are searching for them.

We ought to be thankful not for our eyes but for our ability to see.