Best 137 quotes in «abyss quotes» category

Davey Jones: Do you fear... death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished?

Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. They gaze up at me, and I look them in the eyes. “This also you are,” they say, and I almost fall into the void.” “And then?” Anaxantis shrugged. “And then? I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?

Death was a leech; no matter which side of the spectrum you were on, either dead or alive, it fed. It either acquired your soul or devoured all your joyful emotions.

Descartes gave sight to the blind. These saw the errors of antiquity and of the sciences. The path he struck out is since become boundless [....] In fathoming this abyss no bottom has been found. We are now to examine what discoveries Sir Isaac Newton has made in it.

Drift into the Eversea.

He looks up and the loss in his Noise is so great it feels like i'm standing on the edge of an Abyss, that I'm about to fall down into him, into blackness so empty and lonely there'd never be a way out.

Every puff was like sucking in the abyss, yet he inhaled until his lungs filled with toxic smoke that clouded his thoughts of her.

Gripped by a feverish urge to climb, he felt like running up the stone stairs. People often talk of the attraction of the abyss. There is also the abyss above. Borluut was still going up; he would have liked to keep on going up for ever, melancholy at the thought that the stairway was doubtless going to stop and that at the end, on the edge of the air, he would still yearn to continue, go farther, higher.

for we all have our own twilights and mists and abysses to return to.

He had hundreds of monsters inside him wearing his face as a mask. Screaming and trying to tear him apart and take his place. He always fought furiously to hold them back and it created an unending chaos inside him. Eventually, in the end, he lost all his strength and battles. He was dragged down into the abyss. He cried and fought hard to find his way back home. To get out from there again and to be himself. But among all these masks, the real he was lost forever. He never made it back again, and he was not himself anymore.

He was a victim of concussion. When it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff, whirled in a centrifuge, and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never-- quite--touched--bottom--never--never--quite--no not quite--touched bottom... and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either... never... quite... touched... anything

I cannot bear that chirpy Bobby Kennedy, always building his beaver's nest with a few more facts. He needs to look into the abyss.

His eyes undress his ancient unrevealable emotions. … A suffocating pain is hidden in his eyes. His heart is locked in the depth of the eternal abyss. … His smile ripped my soul and hypnotized my brain, … Seduced in an indescribable agony of dreams. … I had dreams haphazardly about a phantasmagorical creature, unbelievably beautiful, … I felt his touch disintegrating my entire body, it was the apogee of an unborn world and the fallen of the existing one, (fragment from Bewitched, chapter Passion)

I am that quiet place, the centre of the maelstrom...The dangerous abyss, where few dare to tread...

I believe that theology is facing the abyss. I must face the abyss, the abyss of existence, the abyss of mystery. (Rubem Alves, p. 189)

I keep falling deep down into my abyss… I start hearing the stars of my own universe.

If we presume that the boundary of the universe is a kind of surrounding wall, then we think like ancestors who thought there's abyss at the edge of flat earth.

If you keep on retaliating what you receive, you'll be stuck in a infinite abyss of revenge and vendetta.

Ignorance has one virtue: persistence. It will insist through dogged persistence on leading others to follow its vision no matter how misguided. Ignorance will drive the world to the brink of failure and catastrophe and beyond into the abyss with arrogance and anger because wisdom is often too polite to fight. Wisdom doesn’t like to impose its will, but that is all ignorance understands—force over free will and choice. Sooner or later the world comes to its senses, but oh the damage that has been done.

I keep falling deep down into my dark abyss… At some point my abyss will turn into a horizon…

If you are good at building bridges, you will never fall into the abyss!

I have not been sane since the day I learnt that sanity is gravity of the abyss of subjugation.

I keep falling deep down into my dark Abyss until my Abyss turns into a horizon…

I looked up at the ivory towers above us all. Nowhere else equals the feral design of this city. Tall skyscrapers that act as gorges hollowing out between flat cement dancing into narrow alleyways like bottomless pits. Building walls rusted the color of blood. Sometimes when you look down the horizon from afar the city looks wider than it is, like a thin field of magical lights gleaming with the hopes of children and idealists; a light on at midnight in one of the penthouses or the changing hues of the Empire State Building. Most of the time though, the city is covered with a layer of honking cars and greed, sirens and the war cry of solicitors, all full of brambles and impenetrable conscience; garbage, steaming manholes, and heat waves twirling smog and pollution through your lungs like mirages as you walk breathlessly through a boiling desert.

I looked into those eyes and I saw nothing. It was like staring straight into the Underworld. Like he aches to return to where he came from.

I’m only going to say this once,” I said with a finger pointed at him. “So don’t make me repeat it. I’ve sacrificed everything for you and the angels. I deserve some respect around here. From now on what’s best for me will be discussed with me. Actually, any affairs with the angels will now be discussed with me. You make sure you mind-to-mind that with Ehno, Aiden, and Patrick. And then tell Patrick to phone Joseph and tell him too, while you’re at it!

I myself stand on one side and the rest of the world on the other. There is an abyss between, that no power can cross, a strange barrier more insuperable than a mountain of fire. Husband and wife know nothing of one another. However ardent their passion, however intimate their union, they are never one; they are scarcely more to one another than strangers.

I shall crave for love at the bottom of the abyss, until I find you... (fragment from "Awaiting your arrival", chapter Hope)

In their book Warrior Lovers, an analysis of erotic fiction by women, the psychologist Catherine Salmon and the anthropologist Donald Symons wrote, "To encounter erotica designed to appeal to the other sex is to gaze into the psychological abyss that separates the sexes.... The contrasts between romance novels and porn videos are so numerous and profound that they can make one marvel that men and women ever get together at all, much less stay together and successfully rear children." Since the point of erotica is to offer the consumer sexual experiences without having to compromise with the demands of the other sex, it is a window into each sex's unalloyed desires. ... Men fantasize about copulating with bodies; women fantasize about making love to people. Rape is not exactly a normal part of male sexuality, but it is made possible by the fact that male desire can be indiscriminate in its choice of a sexual partner and indifferent to the partner's inner life--indeed, "object" can be a more fitting term than "partner." The difference in the sexes' conception of sex translates into a difference in how they perceive the harm of sexual aggression. ... The sexual abyss offers a complementary explanation of the callous treatment of rape victims in traditional legal and moral codes. It may come from more than the ruthless exercise of power by males over females; it may also come from a parochial inability of men to conceive of a mind unlike theirs, a mind that finds the prospect of abrupt, unsolicited sex with a stranger to be repugnant rather than appealing. A society in which men work side by side with women, and are forced to take their interests into account while justifying their own, is a society in which this thick-headed incuriosity is less likely to remain intact. The sexual abyss also helps to explain the politically correct ideology of rape. ... In the case of rape, the correct belief is that rape has nothing to do with sex and only to do with power. As (Susan) Brownmiller put it, "From prehistoric times to the present, I believe, rape has played a critical function. It is nothing more or less than a conscious process of intimidation by which all men keep all women in a state of fear." ... Brownmiller wrote that she adapted the theory from the ideas of an old communist professor of hers, and it does fit the Marxist conception that all human behavior is to be explained as a struggle for power between groups. But if I may be permitted an ad feminam suggestion, the theory that rape has nothing to do with sex may be more plausible to a gender to whom a desire for impersonal sex with an unwilling stranger is too bizarre to contemplate. Common sense never gets in the way of a sacred custom that has accompanied a decline of violence, and today rape centers unanimously insist that "rape or sexual assault is not an act of sex or lust--it's about aggression, power, and humiliation, using sex as the weapon. The rapist's goal is domination." (To which the journalist Heather MacDonald replies: "The guys who push themselves on women at keggers are after one thing only, and it's not reinstatement of the patriarchy.")

I stood on the edge of that abyss between man and beast and played my harp for you, checking each note, one by one, to see if it would reach you.

I open my eyes. I want to know: what is in the abyss of a kiss? Are stars born in these black caves that house bated breaths and unspoken words? Do our souls crawl on these tender cheeks to greet one another by ivory gates? What happens when we kiss? Where do you go? Don’t tell me. For I have lost my desire to know. Kiss me so that I forget myself. I close my eyes and fall in the abyss.

It’s easy to be led to the abyss.

It was as if some magnetic repulsion, which before had kept our two carriages from meeting and passing, had now been reversed, and so sucked me inexorably forward, drawing me towards something my heart made clear I feared - or should fear - utterly, in the way some people are fatally attracted towards an abyss while standing on its very edge.

I wasn't entirely awake, but I couldn't cross the line into sleep. 'Go. Go on. The abyss is right there. Just a few more steps.' But I was too tired to break through the glass.

I was hopelessly looking for the sky in the abyss But it turned out that it is in your eyes

O sun, heart of the heavens whose blood of light Infuses the vigor which transmutes to azure The black ice strangler of great space obscure I hate you, mask of gold, mist and fire, circular Blind monster blinding all the prey around You who veil the impure dazzling phantasm To the loving vertigo of my avid gazes The visions of the colorless abyss of the void Reversed hollow truth-mask of the other world.

I will dive into my chaos, and my Abyss will turn it into an art scene.

Love fills the infinite.

Most of the time, we try to tell ourselves "I'm confident" or "I'm doing well." But then, in a moment alone at home, you feel how close you are to some kind of abyss.

Not a bad thing to know something about darkness. You can’t talk about light without some knowledge of darkness. Like your buddy Nietzsche said, 'He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.

I will keep falling deep down into my abyss, until my chaos turns it into an art scene.

Many are charmed into paying cash for access, but may be unconscious of their petrifying downward spiral and the steady descent into the abyss of a lobby gate. ( “Bribe payers’ index” )

Pride is born as a mountaintop on a valley, but dies as an abyss in which it is too deep and too dark to see the better.

Step, step, step, I fall and they lift me, slip-slop, slip-slop, through the watery mud. Each step is a heartbeat on my way to the grave, and the longest walk I will ever take. Plip, plip, I slip and they gather me. How strong are these savages, and how tight is their grip! Plip, plip, plip patters the rain, and I fall, and I call, and I stall for more time. But my time has run out.

Reality. I am stuck. I am hostage to my own destination.  When I close my eyes, my wings can take me anywhere in the universe. I abandon myself and I soar. Where only the most profound and intense souls can withstand the sick atmospheres.

Sometimes I trembled From the horror of my abyss.

Send a coin into the abyss and wish for a blissful kiss

Soon the air of the high place was blowing in through the gaps in the masonry, the open bays, where the wind flowed like water round the arches of a bridge. Borluut felt refreshed fanned by this sea-breeze coming from the beaches of the sky: It seemed to be sweeping up dead leaves inside him. New paths, leading elsewhere, appeared in his soul; fresh clearings were revealed. Finally he found himself. Total oblivion as a prelude to taking possession of one's self! He was like the first man on the first day to whom nothing has yet happened. The delights of metamorphosis. He owed them to the tall tower, to the summit he had gained where the battlemented platform was ready for him, a refuge in the infinite. From that height he could no longer see the world, he no longer understood it. Yes, each time he was seized with vertigo, with a desire to lose his footing, to throw himself off, but not towards the ground, into the abyss with its spirals of belfries and roofs over the depths of the town below. It was the abyss above of which he felt the pull. He was more and more bewildered. Everything was becoming blurred - before his eyes, inside his head - because of the fierce wind, the boundless space with nothing to hold on to, the clouds he had come too close to, which long continued to journey on inside him. The delights of sojourning among the summits have their price.

Spinning the webs of meaning keeps me together, balancing my own pleasures and responsibilities with other's prevents me from falling into the abyss of emptiness.

The abyss is black and eventually I know I will smile, laugh even knowing all I think I know, maniacally while I howl at anything I could see that would laugh, snarl and howl the way I do.