\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Friedrich Nietzsche<\/em>\u00a0– Ecce Homo<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\n \u201cThere is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cI have a recurring fantasy that one more article has been added to the Bill of Rights: the right to free access to imagination. I have come to believe that genuine democracy cannot exist without the freedom to imagine and the right to use imaginative works without any restrictions. To have a whole life, one must have the possibility of publicly shaping and expressing private worlds, dreams, thoughts and desires, of constantly having access to a dialogue between the public and private worlds. How else do we know that we have existed, felt, desired, hated, feared?\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Reading Lolita in Teheran, Azar Nafisi<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n \u201cUntil then I had thought each book spoke of the things, human or divine, that lie outside books. Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves. In the light of this reflection, the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of a long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialogue between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to be ruled by a human mind, a treausre of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cOne thing I have learned in a long life: that all our science, measured against reality, is primitive and childlike – and yet it is the most precious thing we have.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Albert Einstein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cOne should guard against preaching to young people success in the customary form as the main aim in life. The most important motive for work in school and in life is pleasure in work, pleasure in its result, and the knowledge of the value of the result to the community.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Albert Einstein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cOnly two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I\u2019m not sure about the former.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Albert Einstein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOur separation from each other is an illusion of consciousness.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Albert Einstein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cOur situation on this earth seems strange. Every one of us appears here involuntary and uninvited for a short stay, without knowing the whys and the wherefore. In our daily lives we only feel that man is here for the sake of others, for those whom we love and for many other beings whose fate is connected with our own.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Albert Einstein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThe only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Arthur C. Clarke<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cBut in the mud and scum of things There always something sings\u2026\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | R.W. Emerson<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cBut real action is in silent moments. The epochs of our life are not in the visible facts of our choice of a calling, our marriage, our acquisition of an office, and the like, but in a silent thought by the way-side as we walk; in a thought which revises our entire manner of life, and says,\u2014\u201dThus hast thou done, but it were better thus.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | R.W. Emerson<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cBy necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote. In fact, it is as difficult to appropriate the thoughts of others as it is to invent.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | R.W. Emerson<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cDon\u2019t you believe that there is in man a deep that is so profound as to be hidden even to him in whom it is?\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | St; Augustine<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cFew rich men own their property; the property owns them.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Robert G. Ingersoll<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n You don\u2019t have to deserve your mother\u2019s love. You have to deserve your father\u2019s. He\u2019s more particular. The father is always a Republican towards his son, and his mother\u2019s always a Democrat.<\/p>\n \u2014Robert Frost, 1960<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n\u201cA human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Robert Heinlein<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n \u201cDo stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration\u2019s shove or society\u2019s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It\u2019s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.\u201d\u00a0Susan Sontag<\/p>\n \u201cSometime they\u2019ll give a war and nobody will come.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Carl Sandburg<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cI think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we\u2019re reading doesn\u2019t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Franz Kafka<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThe power and nature of Soul encompasses heaven and guides it according to its will. To all this vast expanse, as far as it extends, it gives itself, and every interval, both large and small, is filled with Soul\u2026 Soul enlivens all things with its whole self and all Soul is present everywhere\u2026 And vast and diversified thought this universe is, it is one by the power of soul and a god because of soul. The sun is also a god, because ensouled, and the other stars, and if we ourselves partake of the Divine, this is the cause.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Plotinus<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\n \u201cThere is no wider gulf in the universe than yawns between those on the hither and thither side of vital experience.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Rebecca West<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThoughts give birth to a creative force that is \u00a0neither elemental nor sidereal. Thoughts create a new heaven, a new firmament, a new source of energy, from which new arts flow. When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven.\u201d<\/div>\n<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Paracelsus<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cYou are eternity\u2019s hostage. A captive of time.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Boris Pasternak<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cColor possesses me. I don\u2019t have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Paul Klee<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThere was a child who dreamed \nof a little cardboard horse. \nWhen he opened up his eyes, \nthe horse was not to be seen. \nThe child had another dream, \nof a little white horse this time. \nHe grabbed it by the mane \u2026 \nNow you won\u2019t get away! \nNo sooner was it caught \nthan the child woke up again. \nHis fist was clenched tight shut \nbut the horse had disappeared! \nThis was no laughing matter: \nhe thought there is no truth \nin a horse you only dream of- \nand he never dreamed again. \nBut the child became a youth \nand the youth soon fell in love. \nHe used to ask his sweetheart: \nAre you really so or not? \nAnd when the youth grew old, \nhe thought: it\u2019s all a dream- \nthe little horse you dream of \nand the horse that\u2019s really there. \nAnd when it came time to die \nthe old man spoke to his heart: \nAre you a dream? he asked. \nPerhaps he woke up-who knows!\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Antonio Machado<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cA classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Italo Calvino<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cPerhaps I am no one. \nTrue, I have a body \nand I cannot escape from it. \nI would like to fly out of my head, \nbut that is out of the question. \nIt is written on the tablet of destiny \nthat I am stuck here in this human form. \nThat being the case \nI would like to call attention to my problem.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Anne Sexton<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cA morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Walt Whitman<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cTo see what is in front of one\u2019s nose needs a constant struggle.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | George Orwell<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cPhilosophers will conduct their discussions of Locke, Hume, and empiricism without ever taking into account that there is an explicit connection in these classic writers between their \u2018philosophic\u2019 doctrines and racial theory, justifications of slavery, or arguments for colonial exploitation. These are common enough ways by which contemporary scholarship keeps itself pure.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Edward Said<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cVery early in my life, it was too late.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Marguerite Duras<\/em><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThe body says what words cannot.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Martha Graham<\/em><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cOur birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: \nThe Soul that rises with us, our life\u2019s Star, \nHath had elsewhere its setting, \nAnd cometh from afar: \nNot in entire forgetfulness, \nAnd not in utter nakedness, \nBut trailing clouds of glory do we come \nFrom God, who is our home: \nHeaven lies about us in our infancy! \nShades of the prison-house begin to close \nUpon the growing Boy, \nBut He beholds the light, and whence it flows, \nHe sees it in his joy; \nThe Youth, who daily farther from the east \nMust travel, still is Nature\u2019s Priest, \nAnd by the vision splendid \nIs on his way attended; \nAt length the Man perceives it die away, \nAnd fade into the light of common day.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | William Wordsworth<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cArt is what you can get away with.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Andy Warhol<\/em><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\u201cThe best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Chinese Proverb<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n\n \u201cSometimes I\u2019m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.\u201d<\/div>\n \n \n\n\n| \u2014<\/td>\n | Edgar Allan Po<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Summer \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Moon of the First Harvests \u201cYou should become the person you are.\u201d \u2014 Friedrich Nietzsche\u00a0– Ecce Homo \u201cThere is a … Continue reading Lotsa Quotes Out There<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21191","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21191","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=21191"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22480,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21191\/revisions\/22480"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=21191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=21191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=21191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}} | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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