Best 1551 quotes in «creation quotes» category

It looked as though the leaves of the autumn forest had taken flight, and were pouring down the valley like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, all the leaves of the hardwoods from here to Hudson’s Bay. It was as if the season’s colors were draining away like lifeblood, as if the year were molting and shedding. The year was rolling down, and a vital curve had been reached, the tilt that gives way to headlong rush. And when the monarch butterflies had passed and were gone, the skies were vacant, the air poised. The dark night into which the year was plunging was not a sleep but an awakening, a new and necessary austerity, the sparer climate for which I longed. The shed trees were brittle and still, the creek light and cold, and my spirit holding its breath.

It seems funny to think that healing or coming to terms with loneliness and loss, or with the damage accrued in scenes of closeness, the inevitable wounds, that occur whenever people become entangled with one another, might take place by means of objects. It seems funny, and yet the more I thought about it the more prevalent it was. People make things - make art of things that are akin to art - as a way of expressing their need for contact, or their fear of it; people make objects as a way of coming to terms with shame, with grief. People make objects to strip themselves down, to survey their scars, and people make objects to resist oppression, to create a space in which they can move freely. Art doesn't have to have a reparative function, any more than it has a duty to be beautiful or moral. All the same, there is art that gestures toward repair; that, like Wojnarowicz's stitched loaf of bread, traverses the fragile space between separation and connection.

It seemed to me - articulated in words of today - that not only did she know how to put things well but she was developing a gift that I was already familiar with: more effectively than she had as a child, she took the facts and in a natural way charged them with tension; she intensified reality as she reduced it to words, she injected with energy. But I also realized, with pleasure, that, as soon as she began to do this, I felt able to do the same, and I tried and it came easily.

It's good to vandalize one's own work.

It's rather the possibility of friendship, unencumbered by feelings of attraction or shyness; the possibility of working on the same wavelength, as it were, with someone who understands you because he's a boy as you are, or a girl as you are. Committee work stifles the imagination, because people have to work down to the common denominator of what would be minimally acceptable to everyone. But friendship exalts the imagination. Indeed it is one of the things that the ancients said friendship was for. Plato suggests in Symposium that one of the highest forms of friendship is one whose love issues forth in beautiful and virtuous deeds, for thus "the partnership between [the friends] will be far closer and the bond of affection far stronger than between ordinary parents, because the children that they share surpass human children by being immortal as well as more beautiful.

It struck Mort with sudden, terrible poignancy that Death must be the loneliest creature in the universe. In the great party of Creation, he was always in the kitchen.

It was as if they had climbed the last hill in creation.

It was nearly lunch-time before Blackie had finished and went in search of T. Chaos had advanced. The kitchen was a shambles of broken glass and china, the dining-room was stripped of parquet, the skirting was up, the door had been taken off its hinges, and the destroyers had moved up a floor. Streaks of light came in through the closed shutters where they worked with the seriousness of creators - and destruction after all is a form of creation. A kind of imagination had seen this house as it had now become. ("The Destructors")

It was only much later that he was made flesh and blood [in the Gospels] on paper. Thus Christ was created as a literary creation.

It was shameless how life made fun of one; it was a joke, a cause for weeping! Either one lived and let one's senses play, drank full at the primitive mother's breast—which brought great bliss but was no protection against death; then one lived like a mushroom in the forest, colorful today and rotten tomorrow. Or else one put up a defense, imprisoned oneself for work and tried to build a monument to the fleeting passage of life—then one renounced life, was nothing but a tool; one enlisted in the service of that which endured, but one dried up in the process and lost one's freedom, scope, lust for life... Ach, life made sense only if one achieved both, only if it was not split by this brittle alternative! To create, without sacrificing one's senses for it. To live, without renouncing the mobility of creating. Was that impossible?

I used to be afraid about what people might say or think after reading what I had written. I am not afraid anymore, because when I write, I am not trying to prove anything to anyone, I am just expressing myself and my opinions. It’s ok if my opinions are different from those of the reader, each of us can have his own opinions. So writing is like talking, if you are afraid of writing, you may end up being afraid of talking

I want to tell you a story, Alex." Alex nibbled on his bottom lip, waiting. Wondering now if Mr. Today really understood that Alex was turning him down. "Simber." The old mage said. Alex automatically turned to the door, expecting to see the beast. Mr. Today shook his head. "No, he's not hear. Simber was my first creation. Before there was Artime, there was Simber.

I want to think about trees. Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive us, that outlive the sun, even, but I can’t think about them. I live with trees. There are creatures under our feet, creatures that live over our heads, but trees live quite convincingly in the same filament of air we inhabit, and in addition, they extend impressively in both directions, up and down, shearing rock and fanning air, doing their real business just out of reach.

I was in no tent under leaves, sleepless and glad. There was no moon at all; along the world’s coasts the sea tides would be springing strong. The air itself also has lunar tides; I lay still. Could I feel in the air an invisible sweep and surge, and an answering knock in the lungs? Or could I feel the starlight? Every minute on a square mile of this land one ten thousandth of an ounce of starlight spatters to earth. What percentage of an ounce did that make on my eyes and cheeks and arms, tapping and nudging as particles, pulsing and stroking as waves?

I was connected to God like that, and because he was there, I was connected to the whole of his creation.

I was brought up in a Christian environment where, because God had to be given pre-eminence, nothing else was allowed to be important. I have broken through to the position that because God exists, everything has significance.

I will not stop singing the Muses who set me dancing.

I will always know the glory of the beautiful and rare, as they will know security from labour and prayer. As they will hear the laughter of the children they gave life, I will know the torments of the song born under knife.

Let there be light," is what God said to give birth to the world. "Let there be love," is what God said to give birth to the universe.

Live as you were created to live.

Love is in the nature of all things which is who I am, this thing of nature called Love.

Long ago you were a dream in your mother's sleep, and then she awoke to give you birth.

Look up on a starry night, and you will see the majesty and power of an infinite Creator.

Love don't have definition .It was just as it was since the world was created. People are just trying to explain it in vain.

Love is the essence of life, Love is the universal language of all creation, Love is the eternal desire, Love is the life's flower with fragrance to share, So feel the longing for love and being beloved.

Love is the way. Love is the destination. Love is the happiness. Love is the source of all creation.

Love is the binding force of the universe. It is an ongoing flow that unites all of creation.

Magic is just potential for creation. It follows no rules and breaks them all

Maarifa unayoyatafuta katika Biblia, Kurani au Yoga ('Oriental Yoga': 'esoteric knowledge': maarifa ya kujua siri ya uumbaji wa Mungu ya 'Kabbalah' ya Kiyahudi au 'Kalachakra' ya Kibudha ya bara la Asia; siri ya sayansi ya kurefusha maisha ya mafundisho ya kiroho ya 'Arcanum' ya Misri – au Kemia ya Mungu au 'Alchemy'; mafundisho ya kiroho ya 'Rosicrucia' ya bara la Ulaya tangu mwishoni mwa karne ya kumi na nne; 'sex magic', 'sex magic' inaweza kukupa utajiri au umaskini hivyo kuwa makini; n.k.) ni hekima na busara. Vingine vyote vitajileta vyenyewe.

Make an enemy of certainty and befriend doubt. When you can change your mind, you can change anything.

Man belongs to his Maker.

Making a dream come true is like taking control of an airplane high up in the stratosphere and landing it safely on the ground – a measure of forethought, skill and courage is definitely required.

Má leaves me but I'm not alone, and a terrifying thought creeps into my head. Family is now something I have created and not just something I was born into.

Man kept control over the machines he created, I wish God would have done the same with the man he created.

Man was designed in a way in which he must eat in order to give him a solid reason to go to work everyday. This helps to keep him out of trouble. God is wise.

Many, if not most, of the miracles recorded in the Gospels can, in fact, be directly connected to the earlier miracle of the Creation. The same Being who, as Jehovah, organized the elements and framed the heavens and the earth was thus, as the Man of Galilee, able to control the winds and the waves. He could change water to wine, multiply loaves and fishes, heal bodies, and restore sight by the same power...that he had exercised in the beginning.

Man was the last of Creation but was given the duty to care for the Earth and all other created living creatures.

Man has created God out of fear of dying.

Many writers write because they’ve been there, seen that, did it and burnt their fingers

Manifestation is directed by the multiple levels of consciousness, including the subconsciousness, unconsciousness and the collective consciousness. Everything has a degree of consciousness, including animals, plants and even inanimate objects. Everyone and everything is a part of the collective consciousness and plays a role in co-creating the physical universe.

May all men experience the glorious presence of the Creator.

Material creation begins in a tiny corner of a large island called imagination.

Matter,” Vittoria repeated. “Blossoming out of nothing. An incredible display of subatomic fireworks. A miniature universe springing to life. He proved not only that matter can be created from nothing, but that the Big Bang and Genesis can be explained simply by accepting the presence of an enormous source of energy.” “You mean God?” Kohler demanded. “God, Buddha, The Force, Yahweh, the singularity, the unicity point—call it whatever you like—the result is the same. Science and religion support the same truth—pure energy is the father of creation.

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

Men need women. Women need men.

Men are created equal by God but in life, we are not equal and we are never going to be equal

Most consumers are simultaneously neophilic, curious to discover new things, and deeply neophobic, afraid of anything that is too new. The best hit makers are gifted at creating moments of meaning by marrying new and old, anxiety and understanding. They are architects of familiar surprises.

Most people play someone else's role or wear mask of other people because they don't think about what they are created for

My art is an act of creation and destruction, with all the sorrow and joy these engender as well as all the shadow and light these contain.

Mountains cry out to be climbed. Dirt says to us, “Dig.” The ocean’s fathomless waters invite us to go on a deep-sea treasure hunt. The heavens declare not only the glory of God; they also declare that we were made to test their bounds and marvel at their beauty. This is true for every sphere of creation and of human culture: God made all of us, male and female, to explore the world he created, to know it, care for it, and have dominion over it for his glory and others’ benefit. God’s original creation was good yet latent with potential. It was pristine yet incomplete. Missing were the work, curiosity, and energy of humans, the only part of the creation bearing the image of God. Human ambition wasn’t something that crept in after the Fall. It was—is—an aspect of bearing the image of God, of filling his world with beauty and industry and delight.