Folly Quotes (page 9)
One that is ever kind said yesterday:'Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey, And little shadows come about her eyes; Time can but make it easier to be wise. Though now it seems impossible, and so. All that you need is patience.'Heart cries, 'No, I have not a crumb of comfort, not a grain. Time can but make her beauty over again: Because of that great nobleness of hers. The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs, Burns but more clearly. O she had not these ways. When all the wild...
William Butler Yeats
If you believe Leondard, this is how Hell breaks people down -- by permitting them to act out to greater and greater extremes, becoming vicious caricatures of themselves, earning fewer and fewer rewards, until they finally realize their folly. Perhaps, I muse over the telephone, that is the one effective lesson which one learns in Hell.
Chuck Palahniuk
Traditional religions practices are important.They allow us to share with others the communal experience of adoration and prayer,but we must never forget spiritual experience is above all a practical experience of love,and with love,there are no rules some may try to control their emotions and develop strategies for their behavior,others may turn to reading books of advice from "experts" on relationships but this is all folly.The heart decides and what it decides is all that really matters.
Paulo Coelho
I can easily believe it. Women of that class have great opportunities, and if they are intelligent may be well worth listening to. Such varieites of human nature as they are in the habit of witnessing! And it is not merely in its follies, that they are read; for they see it occasionally under every circumstance that can be most interesting or affecting. What instances must pass before them of ardent, disinterested, self-denying attachment, of heroism, fortitude, patience, resignation-- of...
Jane Austen
He yearned to know nothing more about himself, to find peace, to be dead. If only lightning could come and kill him. If only a tiger could come and devour him. If only there were a wine, a poison that could bring him a stupor, bring him sleep and oblivion and no more awakening. Was there any filth with which he had not soiled himself, any sin or folly he had not committed, any spiritual bleakness with which he had not burdened himself? Was it still possible to go on living? Was it possible to...
Herman Hesse
I was going to rise, do some typing and coffee drinking in the kitchen all day since at that time work, work was my dominant thought, not love- not the pain which impels me to write this even while I don't want to, the pain which won't be eased by writing of this but heightened, but which will be redeemed, and if only it were a dignified pain and could be placed somewhere other than this black gutter of shame and loss and noisemaking folly in the night... /The Subterraneans
Jack Kerouac