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Away Quotes (page 125)

The Yogic sages say that all the pain of a human life is caused by words, as is all the joy. We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash. We get seduced by our own mantras (I'm a failure... I'm lonely... I'm a failure... I'm lonely...) and we become monuments to them. To stop talking for a while, then, is to attempt to strip away the power of words, to stop choking ourselves with words, to liberate ourselves from... Elizabeth Gilbert
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, and silently steal away. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A DAY LAYE"Every dawn of our lives a heart is forged and. Linked with lore to one so similar. Born with blessed life dust. Stored beneath its soul. To bless and pass onto its children. Even though the wind may blow it all away. Don't ever worry 'cos I'm your friend. Marc Bolan
We are friends for life. When we’re together the years fall away. Isn’t that what matters? To have someone who can remember with you? To have someone who remembers how far you’ve come? Judy Blume
To devote yourself to the creation and enjoyment of beauty, then, can be a serious business—not always necessarily a means of escaping reality, but sometimes a means of holding on to the real when everything is flaking away into… rhetoric and plot. Elizabeth Gilbert
Great art is always a way of concentrating, reinventing what is called fact, what we know of our existence- a reconcentratio? tearing away the veils, the attitudes people acquire of their time and earlier time. Really good artists tear down those veils Francis Bacon
Everything might scatter. You might be right. I suppose it's something we can't easily get away from. People need to feel they belong. To a nation, to a race. Otherwise, who knows what might happen? This civilisation of ours, perhaps it'll just collapse. And everything scatter, as you put it. Kazuo Ishiguro
In every way that counted, I was dead. Inside somewhere maybe I was screaming and weeping and howling like an animal, but that was another person deep inside, another person who had no access to the lips and face and mouth and head, so on the surface I just shrugged and smile and kept moving. If I could have physically passed away, just let it all go, like that, without doing anything, stepped out of life as easily as walking through a door I would have done. But I was going to sleep at night... Neil Gaiman
Any thought that abandons unity glorifies diversity. Anddiversity is the home of art. The only thought to liberate the mindis that which leaves it alone, certain of its limits and of itsimpending end. No doctrine tempts it. It awaits the ripening of thework and of life. Detached from it, the work will once more give abarely muffled voice to a soul Forever freed from hope. Or it willgive voice to nothing if the creator, tired of his activity, intends toturn away. That is equivalent. Albert Camus
I would quit while you’re ahead. Really. It’s an awful field. Just torture. Awful. You write and you write, and you have to throw almost all of it away because it’s not any good. I would say just stop now. You don’t want to do this to yourself. That’s my advice to you. Philip Roth
Oscar Wilde quote: "memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away"
memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away Oscar Wilde
The rite, the becoming-animal of the scapegoat clearly illustrates this: a first expiatory animal is sacrificed, but a second is driven away, sent out into the desert wilderness. In the signifying regime, the scapegoat represents a new form of increasing entropy in the system of signs: it is charged with everything that was "bad" in a given period, that is, everything that resisted signifying signs, everything that eluded the referral from sign to sign through the different circles; it also... Gilles Deleuze
Friedrich Nietzsche quote: "Or is it this: To be sick and send away the comforters, and to..."
Or is it this: To be sick and send away the comforters, and to make friends of the deaf, who never hear your requests? Friedrich Nietzsche
Love is always love, come whence it may. A heart that beats at your approach, an eye that weeps when you go away are things so rare, so sweet, so precious that they must never be despised. Guy de Maupassant
My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I’ll lay you down, I’ll dress you all in yellow silk and on your head a crown. For you shall be my lady love, and I shall be your lord. I’ll always keep you warm and safe, and guard you with my sword. And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree. She spun away and said to him, no featherbed for me. I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves, and bind my hair with grass, But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass. George R. R. Martin

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