Meaning Quotes - Page 7

So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless. We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam.

We each carry with us unique gifts, recognized and unrecognized. We long to harness those gifts in a way that gives life significance and helps us to matter more in the lives of others.

It's only adults who read the top layers most of the time. I think children read the internal meanings of everything.

The meaning of time is that it never stops.

Time is the answer to the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.

The older you get, the faster time passes in your mind, so use your time according to what is most important.

Sometimes we exist long enough to lead the next generation; other times, only to plant a seed and let its resonations of our time here on Earth ripple into new waves.

Minimise your time with those who make noises instead of speaking what is good for your ears, else, they'll attune you with balderbash. Maximise your time with those who will inject into your ears a soothing sound of wisdom, for they'll set your mind on a sound reasoning path.

I’m in no hurry: the sun and the moon aren’t, either.
Nobody goes faster than the legs they have.
If where I want to go is far away, I’m not there in an instant.

Sometimes to submit is to know you have a life worth living for a higher purpose, worth seeing through.

When we go online, we commit ourselves to the care of online mechanisms. Digital Band-Aids for digital wounds. We feed ourselves into machines, hoping some algorithm will digest the mess that is our experience into something legible, something more meaningful than the "bag of associations" we fear we are.

How frightening, that one person could mean so much, so many things.

If bread is the first necessity of life, recreation is a close second.

The Constitution is ink on parchment. It is forty-four hundred words. And it is, too, the accreted set of meanings that have been made of those words, the amendments, the failed amendments, the struggles, the debates - the course of events - over more than two centuries. It is not easy, but it is everyone’s.

When I’m depressed, I read Caeiro - he’s my fresh air. I become very calm, content, faithful - yes, I find faith in God, and in the soul’s transcendent living smallness, after reading the poems by that ungodly anti-humanist who goes unsurpassed on earth.

I’m glad I see with my eyes and not the pages I’ve read.

She folds the pages of the books she reads when she wants to remember something important. Her favorite books are accordions, testaments to an endless search for meaning.

He looked around at the perfectly white world, felt the wet kisses of the snowflakes, pondered hidden meanings in the pale yellow streetlights that shone in a world so whitely asleep.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

If love and beauty were easy to find, they would not exist.

Chaos and sadness exist in order for you to find the love and beauty in them. So that love and beauty mean something.

It's meant to be hard.

I suddenly asked my master Caeiro, “Are you at peace with yourself?” and he answered, “No, I’m at peace.” It was like the voice of the earth, which is everything and no one.