Best 487 quotes in «will quotes» category

Ineluctably, if will and power are the primary constituents of reality, one will, in a series of deductive steps, conclude to a totalitarian regime. There is no other way out of it. The curious thing is that it does not matter whether one’s view of reality as pure will has its origin in a deformed theology or in a totally secular ideology, such as Hegel’s or Hobbes’s; the political consequences are the same. As Father James Schall has shown, the notion of pure will as the basis of reality results in tyrannical rule. Disordered will, unfettered by right reason, is the political problem.

Infinity exist unfortnately what will happen if we accept it?? After all numbers are taken what happens?? We will start with Omega+1 Then Omega+Omega+1... Think on this, this is the infinitive road, I gave it to you but what you will do?

In order to answer the question “Where am I going?” engage in self-development, self-education and development of will and firmness

Inspiration may come from many places but motivation - the love of life, daily drive and the will to thrive - that must come from you from within

Instead of having just good intentions that are me-centered,you can have God intentions that are God-centered. And when God puts something into you, you can be certain it will come to pass.

In that moment I found a power beyond any I'd had before, a will and a determination I would never have need if not for Lucinda, a fortitude I hadn't been able to find for a lesser cause.

In that moment, the nameless boy understood: This was the end. He was going to die. He would cease to breathe. Cease to be. Cease to hurt. It would be easy. But he didn't want to die.

In the second place, however, history is made in such a way that the final result always arises from conflicts between many individual wills, of which each in turn has been made what it is by a host of particular conditions of life. Thus there are innumerable intersecting forces, an infinite series of parallelograms of forces which give rise to one resultant — the historical event. This may again itself be viewed as the product of a power which works as a whole unconsciously and without volition. For what each individual wills is obstructed by everyone else, and what emerges is something that no one willed. Thus history has proceeded hitherto in the manner of a natural process and is essentially subject to the same laws of motion. But from the fact that the wills of individuals — each of whom desires what he is impelled to by his physical constitution and external, in the last resort economic, circumstances (either his own personal circumstances or those of society in general) — do not attain what they want, but are merged into an aggregate mean, a common resultant, it must not be concluded that they are equal to zero. On the contrary, each contributes to the resultant and is to this extent included in it.

In these barriers (Freedom of will) there is no compulsion. This I feel only when a foreign force controls me and a foreign will seeks to assert itself through my action. Against this I revolt, and only when the foreign will has become my own by virtue of my insight, only then shall I not submit myself, but still act in liberty. To do good in consequence of free insight is true virtue, and to act independently true egoism.

In truth, people can generally make time for what they choose to do; it is not really the time but the will that is wanting.

In this respect ‘Ἡγεμονιχόν would be a fitting title for the will; yet again this title seems to apply to the intellect, in so far as that is the guide and leader, like the footman who walks in front of the stranger. In truth, however, the most striking figure for the relation of the two is that of the strong blind man carrying the sighted lame man on his shoulders.

I say, gentleman, hadn’t we better kick over the whole show and scatter rationalism to the winds, simply to send these logarithms to the devil, and to enable us to live once more at our own sweet foolish will!

I PAINT MY FACE. By Omrane Khuder. Mirror, distorted; I sit, paint my Face, Toxic white Make-up buries my Scars, My Eyes tell lies; Dumbfounded Confidence hides the Disgrace. Place the tragic Vehicle called My Life in to Drive, Sad pathetic Clown; Late for the suppression show, Despair another time; Let the chuckles and defeat derive. I paint my Heart; I hide my True. I paint my Soul; I keep it from You. I paint, I cannot accept; To ignore you the way you ignore Me? I paint my scarred and pitiful Face; No Will left to restore Me. I paint my Face; it’s all I know to do. My painted Face shatters the Mirror, yet still all I see is You.

I once saw a show about an amputee who lost his leg and still feels it. He actually wakes up at night to scratch his leg as if it’s still there, attached to him. They call it a phantom limb. I would be like that. A phantom draki, tormented with the memory of what I once was.

I say “illusion” of choice because, in many cases, the nature of their choices hardly reaches the level of will, but of merely perfunctory activity. For the most part, their desires are not too strong, they are too weak, apathetic and easily placated. They often can be tempted into doing Nothing.

I say to you, without pleasure, that this son of ours will be a great man, because -- well -- because he is not very intelligent. He can see only one desire at a time. I said he tested his dreams; he will murder every dream with the implacable arrows of his will. This boy will win to every goal of his aiming; for he can realize no thought, no reason, but his own. And I am sorry for his coming greatness...

It all happened, I wanted it or not. And, I lived through it, I desired to or not.

I still believed firmly in chance at that time.

It became clear that Keisha Blake could not start something without finishing it. If she climbed onto the boundary wall of Caldwell, she was compelled to walk the entire wall, no matter the obstructions in her path (beer cans, branches). This compulsion, applied to other fields, manifested itself as "intelligence." Every unknown word sent her to a dictionary--in search of something like "completion"--and every book led to another book, a process that, of course, could never be completed. This route through early life gave her no small portion of joy, and, indeed, it seemed at first that her desires and her capacities were basically aligned. She wanted to read things--could not resist wanting to read things--and reading was easily done, and relatively inexpensive. On the other hand, that she should receive any praise for such reflexive habits baffled the girl, for she knew herself to be fantastically stupid about many things. Wasn't it possible that what others mistook for intelligence was in fact only a sort of mutation of the will?

It doesn't matter when, how old am I and how. When the first robot is build and it can be like a human which will mean can think, and communicate I will go and buy it. Because this will be the best friend ever will have and ever had!

It happens so seldom; I must catch and keep this slender yearning, a rare beetle in a jam-jar trap. But mustering will is not the same as wanting. I lie in the garden and think about all the footsteps between my body on the grass and my pencil-case and notebook on the table in the sun room. All the muscles I have to flex and relax to get myself there.

It is the mythic experience, the mythic imagination that opens, reveals depth and mystery, which places the human in the context of the nonhuman, and so, forces retreat, humility, and awe, in the presence of spaces beyond our will.

It is invisible hands that torment and bend us the worst

it's colder than a witch's tit in a steel bra

I told you before, Jem, that you would not leave me," Will said, his bloody hand on the hilt of the dagger. " And you are still with me. When I breath, I will think of you, for without you I would have been dead years ago. When I wake up and when I sleep, when I lift up my hands to defend myself or when I lie down to die, you will be with me. You say we are born again. I say there is a river that divides the dead and the living. What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so we can cross together." Will took a deep breath and let go of the knife. He drew his hand back. The cut on his palm was already healing- the result of the half dozen iratzes on his skin. " You hear that, James Carstairs? We are bound, you and I, over the divide of death, down through whatever generations may come. Forever." He rose to his feet and looked down at the knife. The knife was Jem's, the blood was his. This spot of ground, whether he could ever find it again, whether he lived to try, would be theirs. He turned around to walk to Balios, towards Wales and Tessa. He did not look back.

It seems rather prophetic. We were just joking about this the other day." "I know. Fate has annoying timing.

It seemed to her that living without control of your own will was hardly a step above not living at all.

Its the Will not the Skill" Jim Tunney A skill can be acquired but unless there is a push behind it "Your Will" it wont happen.

Its not easy to steer life without errors; at times forced by propensity; at times by Karma; at times negligence pushes one to make mistakes...

It was not by gentle sweetness and self-abnegation that order was brought out of chaos; it was by strict method, by stern discipline, by rigid attention to detail, by ceaseless labor, by the fixed determination of an indomitable will.

It takes sharper axes to chops bigger trees just as it takes deeper enthusiasm to overcome stronger challenges. Timidity only increases your fears.

'Twas on an evening fair I went to take the air, I heard a maid making her moan; Said, 'Saw ye my father? Or saw ye my mother? Or saw ye my brother John? Or saw ye the lad I that I love best, And his name it is Sweet William?

It would be a decision she made with her will, rather than with her heart, and she would pay a price for it.

It will be interesting to have chance to view and the places from rich and poor to see what happens... if somebody knows the chance to do it it's smaller than before.

I've never been this dirty. I've never been this sweaty and disgusting. I've never been this afraid, this thirsty, this alone". "I haven't been a good leader, but--people are counting on me to take them to safety. I don't know if I'm twelve or twenty or if I'm twenty and I don't think age matters anymore------- There is a way out. I will find a way out.

Live in the now and the how will take care of itself.

Live for your country, die to yourself; live for yourself, die to your country.

I was recalling that other world in which it had thrilled me, in a way, the surprise of thinking that I could be a person who would betray Daniel. Now I wondered if Daniel could surprise himself, could surprise me, by being such a person too. Would he let himself do such a thing? I didn’t think so. And then I wondered: Is it by will, then, that we are who we are? Do we decide, do we make ourselves, after a certain point in life? I tried to call up the moment when I had decided I could be such a person. It seemed to me I hadn’t quite got there, not really. That I was still just playing with the idea of it when the ground shifted under me. But perhaps to play with such an idea was already to be a certain kind of person.

Live a life that will make you look back in old age at your life and grin in satisfaction.

Lost serie are full of depression I think or there is some kind of like this... I don't know up to where I could get... but I will try my best.

Mom, mom, mama, mama wake up, wake up, wake up... (As far I see she won't wake up... she will wake up one moment on 80 then 90 and her life devastated and lost... What do I gain from here? From her work?? She will die and she won't realise that everything was useless what more worst than that???)

Man was created by God to fulfill God’s will

Me: Can you define yourself? Fate: The mighty didn't give me an identity. Me: How would you like to work on one's life? Fate: I don't have a certain way, I always like to work as per one's will.

Michael grew silent, his gaze softening as he looked from me to Will, and a dim light of hope flickered in my heart. “You would mourn for him.” “Yes, I said. “I would mourn him forever with a broken heart. This human soul has given me so many blessings and curses. I’m the only one of our kind who has ever felt the most perfect happiness and the truest sorrow - because of this soul. My love for my Guardian is one of those blessings. It’s not a curse.” “You can,” I promised. “Please trust me. I need all the help I can get, and that includes yours. If you kill my Guardian, then I will never forgive you. I can’t be at war with you too. Please, please, Michael, my brother. Don’t kill him. … A tear caught on the edge of my lips. “Do you love me as your sister?” His mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re worried about me, because you love me. Don’t be afraid of feeling anything. our Father made us this way. He wouldn’t make a mistake.” “I…,” Michael said, and emotion spilled over his face. His brow furrowed with exhaustion and he seemed overwhelmed by what he felt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. “You are my sister, Gabriel.” “Then don’t do this.” I begged him. He was quiet again for several agonising moments, returning to his emotionless state. “Keep him. I have faith in you, Sister. Will and I breathed sighs of relief, but it was a few seconds before Michael withdrew his sword. His expression remained unchanging as he lifted Will’s death warrant.

Momma,’ he said, ‘haven’t you thought that God’s will was for some doctor to invent that drug so you could live longer?

Maybe he was overwhelmed, like I am overwhelmed, by that mysterious intersection where love meets luck, where fate meets will. Because he'd been waiting for her. And there she was.

Modern man lives under the illusion that he knows 'what he wants,' while he actually wants what he is supposed to want. In order to accept this it is necessary to realize that to know what one really wants is not comparatively easy, as most people think, but one of the most difficult problems any human being has to solve. It is a task we frantically try to avoid by accepting ready-made goals as though they were our own.

More than every once in awhile, More than most dreams, More than just my heart, More than anything, More than you know, And more than I can say, I’ve loved you more Every passing day

Most of the time, yesterday’s level of increase will not be enough to secure tomorrow"s increase

Most of those who have written about the Affects, and men’s way of living, seem to treat, not of natural things, which follow the common laws of nature, but of things that are outside nature. Indeed they seem to conceive man in nature as a dominion within a dominion. For they believe that man disturbs, rather than follows, the order of nature, that he has absolute power over his actions, and that he is determined only by himself.