We swim against― our own sweet moments― lapping the hours in expanded pleasures that swagger away― our wilting sentience― pretending to be― existent―
I wondered where those roads, in which the world diverged, became the promises of another life, the hilly embankment that touched the horizon in tranquil virescent spikes, splattered with hazel lines, that conquered truth and candour.
Who knew those detached words could conjure silent vows― flaming― fide et amor ― nothing lasts forever―
The speed of time varied, fast or slow, depending on the depth of my sleep. My favorite days were the ones that barely registered.
Self discipline, punctuality and time management are very important - for life is short, and every resource you have must be well utilized so that you find enlightenment and liberation - your ultimate goal.
Death, in the human perspective, is not a given, it must be achieved. It is a task, one which we take up actively, one which becomes the source of our activity and mastery. Man dies, that is nothing. But man is, starting from his death. He ties himself tight to his death with a tie of which he is the judge. He makes his death; he makes himself mortal and in this way gives himself the power of a maker and gives to what he makes its meaning and its truth. The decision to be without being is possibility itself: the possibility of death.
She wasted my heart, my time.
If everything in the universe evolves toward increasing disorder, it must have started out in an exquisitely ordered arrangement. This whole chain of logic, purporting to explain why you can't turn an omelet into an egg, apparently rests on a deep assumption about the very beginning of the universe. It was in a state of very low entropy, very high order. Why did our part of the universe pass though a period of such low entropy?
It occurred to me that human beings didn’t live beyond a hundred because they simply weren’t up for it. Psychologically, I mean. You kind of ran out. There wasn’t enough self to keep going. You grew too bored of your own mind. Of the way life repeated itself. How, after a while, there wasn’t a smile or gesture that you hadn’t seen before. There wasn’t a change in the world order that didn’t echo other changes in the world order. And the news stopped being new.
If you live long enough you realise that every proven fact is later disproved and then proven again.
Hypocrisy is something I have learned saturates every level of our society. I see it more with my old age than I did then. At some stage I started questioning everything that I was being taught and turned against various aspects of my upbringing. Maybe I had my reasons and maybe I needed new ways to cope.
Time is a machine: it will convert your pain into experience. Raw data will be compiled, will be translated into a more comprehensible language. The individual events of your life will be transmuted into another substance called memory and in the mechanism something will be lost and you will never be able to reverse it, you will never again have the moment back as its uncategorized, preprocessed state. It will force you to move on and you will not have a choice in the matter.
Many millions of people have lost their lives while trying to save a few minutes.
I miss the floral scent of her hair, the perfume that barely masked the underlying truth of what she was. She was lost time. She smelled of dusty libraries and unwound clocks, salted sand and rain riding on the first rays of dawn. And lilac. When she held me to her, lilac was what I smelled first.
Now is the only time. How we relate to it creates the future. In other words, if we're going to be more cheerful in the future, it's because of our aspiration and exertion to be cheerful in the present. What we do accumulates; th future is the result of what we do right now.
book collecting is only meaningful if it’s personal,” Oscar clarified. “If it’s just another way of accumulating wealth instead of for the books themselves it isn’t right. Collectors are trying to protect themselves. To separate themselves. It’s a hierarchy.
Ocorreu-me, ali de pĂ©, simplesmente a respirar com ela, com o sossego a reinar Ă nossa volta, que aquelas bem podiam ser as duas palavras mais bonitas faladas em lĂngua de gente. 'Temos tempo.
These wheels within wheels These leaves folded in leaves These wheeling winds and winding leaves Those sprockets from those seeds This spiral shooting from that rainfall- What does a turning earth say to its axis? How should a melon say thanks Or a squash utter blessings?
Time has told me Your're a rare, rare find A troubled cure For a troubled mind
We spend so long trying to get what everyone else has, that we don't even realize that we all ready have it all.
