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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #mean
We half to make our lives meaningful in spite of what we don't know. ↗
#meaningful #reality #truth #life
Life is about making mistakes and learning from those mistakes. Life isn't dwelling on the past or fearing the future, it's making the best of the present. Life is a lesson in itself. Regardless of religion, gender, environment, or what you believe will happen when you die, life is about striving to reach your own potential. ↗
#life #meaning #of #philosophy #inspirational
Frankl asserts that "the potentialities of life are not indifferent possibilities, but must be seen in the light of meaning and values." Such meaning and values cannot be imposed; each individual must seek out for himself or herself the meaning of each situation and the implications the present moment may have for the future. ↗
The enduring attraction of war is this: Even with its destruction and carnage it can give us what we long for in life. It can give us purpose, meaning, a reason for living. Only when we are in the midst of conflict does the shallowness and vapidness of much of our lives become apparent. Trivia dominates our conversations and increasingly our airwaves. And war is an enticing elixir. It gives us resolve, a cause. It allows us to be noble. And those who have the least meaning in their lives, the impoverished refugees in Gaza, the disenfranchised North African immigrants in France, even the legions of young who live in the splendid indolence and safety of the industrialized world, are all susceptible to war's appeal. ↗
I did not know I was on a search for passionate aliveness. I only knew I was lonely and lost and that something was drawing me deeper beneath the surface of my life in search of meaning. There is a hunger in people to go to those deep depths; to know that our lives are sacred; that our hearts are truly capable of love. It is a yearning to be all the we can be. A longing for what is real. ↗
#lonely #lost #meaning #passion #passionate
أن الحب يذهب الى ما هوأبعد في غايته من الشخص البدني للمحبوب. هذا الحب يجد معناه الأعمق في الوجود الروحي لهذا الشخص المحبوب، أي في ذاته الداخلية ↗
Here, her hand in mine was the one reality that severed us from the cold click-clack of Hell. I rubbed her hand and she sighed; wasn’t that meaning? Wasn’t that something we could cling to? I could be with this other. I could form no other relation, but maybe her hand in mine was enough, both sufficient and necessary. In Hell there was no sense of place, because all places were the same. Uniform monotony. A place without place. A place without context. But, here, now, I could rub her hand and she would sigh. She was a difference. Perhaps each person was the only difference in all these halls of unchanging ranks of books, kiosks, clocks, and carpet, and that, and that, at least, we had to hold to. ↗
