Been Quotes (displaying: 1 - 30 of 18587 quotes )
It could have been--it didn't have to be obscene.... It could have been--a bird out of season, dropping bright-feathered on my shoulder.... It could have been a tongueless dwarf standing by the road to point the way.... I was prepared. But it's this, is it? No enigma, no dignity, nothing classical, portentous, only this--a comic pornographer and a rabble of prostitutes....
i have beenused something fierce in my time buti am no bum sport archyi am a free spirit archy ilook on myself as beingquite a romantic character oh thequeens i have been and the swell feeds i have atea cockroach which you areand a poet which you used to bearchy couldn t understandmy feelings at having comedown to this i havehad bids to elegant feeds where poetsand cockroaches wouldneither one be mentioned without alaugh archy i have hadadventures but ihave never been an adventuress
A child blind from birth doesn't even know he's blind until someone tells him. Even thenhe has only the most academic idea of what blindness is; only the formerly sighted have areal grip on the thing. Ben Hanscom had no sense of being lonely because he had never beenanything but. If the condition had been new, or more localized, he might have understood, butloneliness both encompassed his life and overreached it.
People often think the question of non-resistance to evil by forceis a theoretical one, which can be neglected. Yet this questionis presented by life itself to all men, and calls for some answerfrom every thinking man. Ever since Christianity has beenoutwardly professed, this question is for men in their social lifelike the question which presents itself to a traveler when theroad on which he has been journeying divides into two branches. He must go on and he cannot say: I will not think about it, butwill go on just as I did before. There was one road, now thereare two, and he must make his choice.
I don't want to know more about her; don't want to know her weaknesses or calculate them. What I have is not for her; he gives me to understand she would not know what to do with it; it's not her fault. --One is married and there is nothing to be done.-- Yet he has said to me, I would marry you if I could, meaning: I want very much to marry you. I offended him a bit by not being moved. It's other things he's said that are the text I'm living by. I really do not know if I want any form of public statement, status, code; such as marriage. There's nothing more private and personal than the life of a mistress, is there? Outwardly, no one even knows we are responsible to each other....'This is the creature that has never been'--he told me a line of poetry about that unicorn, translated from German. A mythical creature. Un paradis invent.
The Photograph is an extended, loaded evidence? as if it caricatured not the figure of what it represents (quite the converse) but its very existence ... The Photograph then becomes a bizarre (i)medium(i), a new form of hallucination: false on the level of perception, true on the level of time: a temporal hallucination, so to speak, a modest (o)shared(i) hallucination (on the one hand 'it is not there,' on the other 'but it has indeed been'): a mad image, chafed by reality.
If I could live again my life,In the next - I'll try,- to make more mistakes,I won't try to be so perfect,I'll be more relaxed...I'll take fewer things seriously..I'll take more risks,I'll take more trips,I'll watch more sunsets,I'll climb more mountains,I'll swim more rivers,I'll go to more places I've never beenI'll eat more ice ...I'll have more real problems and less imaginary onesIf I could live again - I will travel light If I could live again - I'll try to work bare feet at the beginning of spring till the end of autumn,I'll watch more sunrises ...If I have the life to live
I am not sure whether I can make you understand it. It was something more than a prudent desire to avoid creatures alien in kind, very powerful, and very intelligent. The truth was that all I heard about them served to connect two things which one's mind tends to keep separate, and that connecting gave one sort of a shock. We tend to think about non-human intelligences in two distinct categories which we label "scientific" and "supernatural" respectively. We think, in one mood, of Mr. Wells' Martians (very unlike the real Malacandrians, by the bye), or his Selenites. In quite a different mood we let our minds loose on the possibility of angels, ghosts, fairies, and the like. But the very moment we are compelled to recognise a creature in either class as real, the distinction begins to get blurred: and when it is a creature like an eldil the distinction vanishes altogether. These things were not animals-to that extent one had to classify them with the second group; but they had some kind of material vehicle whose presence could (in principle) be scientifically verified. To that extent they belonged to the first group. The distinction between natural and supernatural, in fact, broke down; and when it had done so, one realised how great a comfort it had been-how it had eased the burden of intolerable strangeness which this universe imposes on us by dividing it into two halves and encouraging the mind never to think of both in the same context.
A long time ago, man would listen in amazement to the sound of regular beats inhis chest, never suspecting what they were. He was unable to identify himselfwith so alien and unfamiliar an object as the body. The body was a cage, andinside that cage was something which looked, listened, feared, thought, andmarveled; that something, that remainder left over after the body had beenaccounted for, was the soul.
=> When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile.=> Never tell your problems to anyone...20% don't care and the other 80% are glad you have them.=> It's true that we don't know what we've got until we loseit, but it's also true that we don't know what we've beenmissing until it arrives.
And the places she turns up in Jamaica are all the more curious. I remember being at sound-system dances and hearing everyone from Bob Marley Kenny Rogers (yes, Kenny Rogers) to Sade to Yellowman to Beenie Man being blasted at top volume while the crowd danced and drank up a storm. But once the selector (DJ in American parlance) began to play a Celine Dion song, the crowd went buck wild and some people started firing shots in the air.... I also remember always hearing Celine Dion blasting at high volume whenever I passed through volatile and dangerous neighborhoods, so much that it became a cue to me to walk, run or drive faster if I was ever in a neighborhood I didn't know and heard Celine Dion mawking over the airwaves.
Love sorrow. She is yours now, and you musttake care of what has beengiven. Brush her hair, help herinto her little coat, hold her hand, especially when crossing a street. For, think, what if you should lose her? Then you would besorrow yourself; her drawn face, her sleeplessnesswould be yours. Take care, touchher forehead that she feel herself not soutterly alone. And smile, that she does notaltogether forget the world before the lesson. Have patience in abundance. And do notever lie or ever leave her even for a momentby herself, which is to say, possibly, again, abandoned. She is strange, mute, difficult, sometimes unmanageable but, remember, she is a child. And amazing things can happen. And you may see, as the two of you gowalking together in the morning light, howlittle by little she relaxes; she looks about her; she begins to grow.
Men can do nothing without the make-believe of abeginning. Even science, the strict measurer, is obliged to startwith a make-believe unit, and must fix on a point in the stars'unceasing journey when his sidereal clock shall pretend that timeis at Nought. His less accurate grandmother Poetry has always beenunderstood to start in the middle; but on reflection it appearsthat her proceeding is not very different from his; since Science, too, reckons backward as well as forward, divides his unit intobillions, and with his clock-finger at Nought really sets offin medias res. No retrospect will take us to the truebeginning; and whether our prologue be in heaven or on earth, it isbut a fraction of that all-presupposing fact with which our storysets out.
I believe I essentially remain what I have always been--a narrator, but one with extremely pressing personal needs. I want to introduce, I want to describe, I want to distribute mementos, amulets, I want to break out my wallet and pass around snapshots, I want to follow my nose. In this mood I don't dare go anywhere near the shortstory form. It eats up little fat undetatched writers like me.
I havetransported many, thousands; and to all of them, my river has beennothing but an obstacle on their travels. They travelled to seek moneyand business, and for weddings, and on pilgrimages, and the river wasobstructing their path, and the ferryman's job was to get them quicklyacross that obstacle. But for some among thousands, a few, four orfive, the river has stopped being an obstacle, they have heard itsvoice, they have listened to it, and the river has become sacred tothem, as it has become sacred to me.