#meaning

He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? But to act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. ↗

— Anonymous

#life

Another school declares that all time has already transpired and that our life is only the crepuscular and no doubt falsified and mutilated memory or reflection of an irrecoverable process. ↗

— Jorge Luis Borges

#meaning #memory #reality #life

Alan had never been stabbed or shot or punctured or broken. Were scars the best evidence of living? If we have not survived something, and thus were certain that we'd lived, we could scar ourselves, couldn't we? ↗

— Dave Eggers

#life

Why would our brains have this capacity to sense the oneness of the universe, a sense that can be induced in many ways, even technological, if that capacity did not reflect an external reality? ↗

— Kara Dalkey

#perception #reality #universe #life

To deal with history [life] means to abandon one's self to chaos but to retain a belief in the ordination and the meaning. It is a very serious task. ↗

— Hermann Hesse

#history #life #meaning #life

-Can we have one day when we don't have to talk about the meaning of life? -I don't think we ever talk about anything else. ↗

— Lily King

#life

I don't think it's a question of liking or disliking it," Tengo said..."It was the one thing he was best at." "Hmm. I see," Kumi said. She pondered this. "But that might very well be the best way to live your life. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#true-purpose #life

The pure power of a life can manifest as beatitude, or as an unspeakable, sheer violence... ↗

— Jane Bennett

#life #life-force #matter #meaning-of-life #life

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. ↗

— Anne Hillman

#lonely #lost #meaning #passion #passionate

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. ↗

— Steven L. Peck

#existence #hell #love #meaning #love