Best 1828 quotes in «existence quotes» category

Man is gifted with reason; he is life being aware of itself; he has awareness of himself, of his fellow man, of his past, and of the possibilities of his future. This awareness of himself as a separate entity, the awareness of his own short life span, of the fact that without his will he is born and against his will he dies, that he will die before those whom he loves, or they before him, the awareness of his aloneness and separateness, of his helplessness before the forces of nature and of society, all this makes his separate, disunited existence an unbearable prison. He would become insane could he not liberate himself from this prison and reach out, unite himself in some form or other with men, with the world outside.

Man is nothing else but what he purposes, he exists only in so far as he realizes himself, he is therefore nothing else but the sum of his actions, nothing else but what his life is.

Man keeps looking for a truth that fits his reality. Given our reality, the truth doesn't fit.

Man is often lost in a technological, physiological, astrological lack of logical existence that can best be described as a whole lot of nothing lightly dashed with an obvious hint of Scotch,” Hal says.

Many people have failing relationships because they have not really fallen in love with each other, but they have fallen for the mental images they have created of one another. We assume we know our partner, we think about them nonstop, creating many different ideas of who they are, what they like, and how we will be together, then as soon as our partner does something that doesn’t fit with our mental image of them, we become sad, upset, confused, or heart broken. Our partner did not cause our suffering; we caused it, through our false perceptions and mental images.

Maps codify the miracle of existence.

Mariac tells us about the books he's read, the painters he's liked, the plays he's seen. He finds himself by looking in the works of others. He defines his own faith by a passionate anger against Gide the Luciferian. Reading his 'memories' is like meeting a man on a train who says, 'Don't look at me; that's misleading. If you want to know what I'm like, wait until we're in a tunnel, and then study my reflection in the window.' You wait, and look, and catch a face against a shifting background of sooty walls, cables, and sudden brickwork. The transparent shape flickers and jumps, always a few feet away. You become accustomed to its existence, you move with its movements; and though you know its presence is conditional, you feel it to be permanent. Then there is a wail from ahead, a roar and a burst of light; the face is gone for ever.

Matter and Spirit are intertwined in creation at this plane of existence and both are non existent without each other.To live one, the other has to be lived. It is the obsessive attachment to the material world, which is seen as an impediment....when one can see nothing beyond it

Maybe it’s time to set aside intellectualism and experience the wonders of things that can’t be explained.

Maybe the question isn't whether God exists, but how we act. If we all act like God doesn't exist, then for all intents and purposes God doesn't. But if we act like God does exist, then in essence, She does.

Maybe life isn't for everyone, Sometimes you do things to start anew life. But the new paths will always bring you back to the old ones or just show a glimpse of it so that you again go through those thousand memories. and no matter how much you try to get rid of the old shoe, Life will bring you to a certain point where you would want to throw off the new shoe and wear the old one back again.. and Maybe, maybe you would or maybe you would not. For who knows, We re mysterious beings in these mysterious world trying to figure out our existence.

Maybe there’s a heaven, like they say, a place where everything we’ve ever done is noted and recorded, weighed on big karma scales. Maybe not. Maybe this whole thing is just a giant experiment run by aliens who find out human hijinks amusing. Or maybe we’re an abandoned project started by a deity who checked out a long time ago, but we’re still hard-wired to believe, to try to make meaning out of the seemingly random. Maybe we’re all part of the same unconscious stew, dreaming the same dreams, hoping the same hopes, needing the same connection, trying to find it, missing, trying again—each of us playing our parts in the other’s plotlines, just one big ball of human yarn tangled up together. Maybe this is it.

Meditation expands our inner being. The inner being is like a small, individual river flowering towards the Ocean. In meditation, I feel how my inner being expands into an inner ocean, which is part of everything, which is one with Existence. Through the inner being, we come in contact with the inner ocean, the undefined and boundless within ourselves, where we are one with life. We realize that God is part of life. We realize that God is not a person, but the consciousness that is part of everything. We find God in a flower, in a tree, in the eyes of a child or in a playful dog. Through discovering our inner being, we discover that we are also part of the flower, the child or the dog. We realize that God is everywhere.

Memory is that element in our consciousness that connects the past with the present. If we had no memory, there would be only one moment of our life, the moment we call now, and we would never consciously recognize more than this single moment.

Men do not turn from God so easily. Not so easily. Deep in each man is the knowledge that something knows of his existence. Something knows, and cannot e fled nor hid from. To imagine otherwise is to imagine the unspeakable. It was never that this man ceased to believe in God. No. It was rather that he came to believe terrible things of him.

Might it have been nothing but life itself? Life; this limitless complex sea, filled with assorted flotsam, brimming with capricious, violent, and yet eternally transparent blues and greens.

Might one not say that in the chance combination of nature's production, since only those endowed with certain relations of suitability could survive, it is no cause for wonder that this suitability is found in all species that exist today? Chance, one might say, produced an innumerable multitude of individuals; a small number turned out to be constructed in such fashion that the parts of the animal could satisfy its needs; in another, infinitely greater number, there was neither suitability nor order: all of the later have perished; animals without a mouth could not live, others lacking organs for reproduction could not perpetuate themselves: the only ones to have remained are those in which were found order and suitability; and these species, which we see today, are only the smallest part of what blind fate produced.

Mind is the subtle existence, existence is the grosser mind.

Mit blods røst sier mig at den er størst som har tilført tilværelsen mest grunnværdi, mest positiv profit. Den store terrorist er størst, dimensionen, den uhørte donkraft som veier kloder op.

More likely, they would just cease to exist." "That's death." "No, it's different. Death leaves a corps.

Most people do not know what they are living for. Asking a question of the purpose of their existence would be an absurd thing to do merely on this account

Monsters that live under children's beds have power only because of the child's ignorance. Thus the nonexistent becomes efficacious.

Most of us cling to life as if our existence were a result of our deed or choice.

Most people never truly live because they never do what they truly love.

Most people react to the human made delusions of life without considering that there is something more to our existence.

Much of our existence is to deal with steep problems and slippery solutions; the rest is the celebration of life!

Much of our suffering is caused by our false perceptions and attachment to mental images. We assume things to be true without really knowing whether they are true or not, then create a world of hurt for ourselves and others.

MUSIC OF THE UNIVERSE Without the orchestra of the universe, There would be no ether. And without its instrumentation By the ether, There would be no waves. And without any waves, There would be no sound. And without sound, There would be no music. And without music, There would be no life. And without a life force, There would be no matter. But it does not matter - Because what is matter, If there is no light?

My first question is- do you have a name? "A name? Yes." "Ah!" said the wolf. It wrote several extensive notes. "And what is that name?" "George." "I see," said the wolf. "And how long have you been George?" "How long? As in, how long have I been alive?" "oh, were you here in some way before you were alive?" asked the wolf, interested. "I...don't really know," said George. " I don't think so." "So you don't know if you were here? Or if you were here before your George-time? Is it possible for you to be here, bu not know it?" "My what time? no, I mean, I was born, and then they just named me George." "So you are not George," said the wolf. George is just a name. A word. A propulsion of air modified by the flexing of throat parts." "Well, I am George, but...yes. Yes, and...no." "Is it possible that you became George at a later time, having been originally named that thing?" asked the wolf. " What if the naming had been different, would you still be George?" "I...yes?" "Really?" breathed the wolf in awe. "This is all so confusing." Yet he seemed very pleased with George's answers. " I don't know how you all do it. It seems so marvelously complex to simply...be.

My biggest mistake is that I consider myself as the subject. The fact is, I am only an object of existence. My limitations hinder my view. My ignorance keeps me away from the truth.

My father once told me that there are no gods; only the cruel manipulations of evil people who pretended that their power was good and their exploitation was love. But if there are no gods; why are we so hungry to believe in them? Just because evil liars stand between us and the gods and block our view of them does not mean that the bright halo that surrounds each liar is not the outer edges of a god, waiting for us to find our way around the lie.

My arrival Her womb’s delight Her existence My living light Her wounds My scars Her skies My stars Her days My hours Her strength My powers I breathe my name Being her child Without mother Life’s beguiled From the poem 'Mother

Must be some missing, though, to my way of thinking. The ones you win a war with. Have some supper?

My existence is enough gift of grace.

My poems - they sprang from the depths of my being.

My reason for existence is my struggle to be a writer.

My silences are my existence. My silences make me who I am. My silences have made me who I have become. I have always loved silences. I talk to my silences. Silences are so eloquent!

My past self would've hated who I am today And I still feel that hatred in the parts of him that stayed

My takeaway from all of Ophelia's sessions was that life favored value. The world was bursting with opportunity. If you didn't like who you were, it was time to reinvent yourself and try again. It was a disservice to the universe to cheat everyone of your talents. And if you were at your wit's end, thinking you had nothing to offer, it was essential to cultivate value within yourself in order to move forward. In order to live beyond existence. In order to turn your pain into something beautiful.

My thoughts produce emotions which produces action; thus, the action is the outcome of the thought. Show me a man's actions and I can tell you of his thoughts. What are your thoughts?

Necessity is an independent concept. It has a different structure from logic, morals, or meaning. Its function lies entirely in the role it plays. What doesn't play a role shouldn't exist. What necessity requires does need to exist. That's what you call dramaturgy.

Nature, it seems, is the popular name for milliards and milliards and milliards of particles playing their infinite game of billiards and billiards and billiards.

Neutrals are free, unaffected and disengaged. Their presence alone flatly cancels the logic of power across the board due to their existential uselessness to both powerful and powerless. I at times question any difference between ‘freedom’ and ‘uselessness’ and have never succeeded in finding a satisfying answer. I believe the world has become complicated by the neutrals who never exposed their neutrality. Their disguised intention and unfathomable identity have dramatized the world by having others fear their uncertainty. Neutrals stand outside of boundaries of good and bad. They are true strangers. And probably, they are the true resistants.

Nature  …   has made it impossible for us to have any communication from this earth with the other great bodies of the universe, in our present state; and it is highly possible that he has likewise cut off all communication betwixt the other planets, and betwixt the different systems.… We observe, in all of them, enough to raise our curiosity, but not to satisfy it  …   It does not appear to be suitable to the wisdom that shines throughout all nature, to suppose that we should see so far, and have our curiosity so much raised  …   only to be disappointed at the end  …   This, therefore, naturally leads us to consider our present state as only the dawn or beginning of our existence, and as a state of preparation or probation for farther advancement.…

Never despise the talents you have. It is by them that you will do something that has not yet come into existence until you were born.

Never doubt your existence.

Never forget your roots, it's the foundation that builds your existence and the secret to your future.

Never give up fighting against the universe because we exist in life through action, through fighting!

Nature never remembers, that’s why she’s beautiful.

No fact in human nature is more characteristic than its willingness to live on a chance. The existence of the chance makes the difference… between a life of which the keynote is resignation and a life of which the keynote is hope.