#at

I have no problem with god - it's his fan club that scars me. ↗

— A.B. Potts

#god #humour #atheist

Your capacity to experience the fullness of life is directly proportionate to your capacity to experience the fullness of love. ↗

— Steve Maraboli

#inspirational #life #love #experience

An atheist is a man who believes himself an accident. ↗

— Francis Thompson

#atheist #believes #himself #man #who

A modern philosopher who has never once suspected himself of being a charlatan must be such a shallow mind that his work is probably not worth reading. ↗

— Leszek Kołakowski

#doubt #irony #modernity #philosophy #self-criticism

Always leave a way out, unless you really want to find out how hard a man can fight when he’s nothing to lose. ↗

— Robert Jordan

#strategy

In the deep night of metaphysics, all cats look black. ↗

— Terry Eagleton

#metaphysics #metaphysics

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away. ↗

— Ilona Andrews

#ilona-andrews #investigative-work #kate #kate-daniels #magic-bites

In an extroverted society, the difference between an introvert and an extrovert is that an introvert is often unconsciously deemed guilty until proven innocent. ↗

— Criss Jami

#assumption #bias #blame #extroversion #extroverts

Man was born for society. However little He may be attached to the World, He never can wholly forget it, or bear to be wholly forgotten by it. Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become an Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock. While Hate inflames his bosom, possibly He may feel contented with his situation: But when his passions begin to cool; when Time has mellowed his sorrows, and healed those wounds which He bore with him to his solitude, think you that Content becomes his Companion? Ah! no, Rosario. No longer sustained by the violence of his passions, He feels all the monotony of his way of living, and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness. He looks round, and finds himself alone in the Universe: The love of society revives in his bosom, and He pants to return to that world which He has abandoned. Nature loses all her charms in his eyes: No one is near him to point out her beauties, or share in his admiration of her excellence and variety. Propped upon the fragment of some Rock, He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with a vacant eye, He views without emotion the glory of the setting Sun. Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening, for no one there is anxious for his arrival; He has no comfort in his solitary unsavoury meal: He throws himself upon his couch of Moss despondent and dissatisfied, and wakes only to pass a day as joyless, as monotonous as the former. ↗

— Matthew Gregory Lewis

#contentment #discontentment #hermit #hermits #hopelessness

if you wanted to do something absolutely honest, something true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone. ↗

— Richard Yates

#honesty #yates #honesty