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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #real
Perhaps defining a self begins with simply making the first choice, simply rising up and deciding what you desire, and then methodically, like writing, putting one word after the other until you have created a whole self and a whole life in the process. ↗
#healing #inspirational #self-awareness #self-realization #inspirational
Truth, says instrumentalism, is what works out, that which does what you expect it to do. The judgment is true when you can "bank" on it and not be disappointed. If, when you predict, or when you follow the lead of your idea or plan, it brings you to the ends sought for in the beginning, your judgment is true. It does not consist in agreement of ideas, or the agreement of ideas with an outside reality; neither is it an eternal something which always is, but it is a name given to ways of thinking which get the thinker where he started. As a railroad ticket is a "true" one when it lands the passenger at the station he sought, so is an idea "true," not when it agrees with something outside, but when it gets the thinker successfully to the end of his intellectual journey. Truth, reality, ideas and judgments are not things that stand out eternally "there," whether in the skies above or in the earth beneath; but they are names used to characterize certain vital stages in a process which is ever going on, the process of creation, of evolution. In that process we may speak of reality, this being valuable for our purposes; again, we may speak of truth; later, of ideas; and still again, of judgments; but because we talk about them we should not delude ourselves into thinking we can handle them as something eternally existing as we handle a specimen under the glass. Such a conception of truth and reality, the instrumentalist believes, is in harmony with the general nature of progress. He fails to see how progress, genuine creation, can occur on any other theory on theories of finality, fixity, and authority; but he believes that the idea of creation which we have sketched here gives man a vote in the affairs of the universe, renders him a citizen of the world to aid in the creation of valuable objects in the nature of institutions and principles, encourages him to attempt things "unattempted yet in prose or rhyme," inspires him to the creation of "more stately mansions," and to the forsaking of his "low vaulted past." He believes that the days of authority are over, whether in religion, in rulership, in science, or in philosophy; and he offers this dynamic universe as a challenge to the volition and intelligence of man, a universe to be won or lost at man’s option, a universe not to fall down before and worship as the slave before his master, the subject before his king, the scientist before his principle, the philosopher before his system, but a universe to be controlled, directed, and recreated by man’s intelligence. ↗
... ... موسی رو به نیل کرد، خیره به همان نیل، انگار با نیل صحبت می کند، بدون آن که رو به مردم بر گرداند، مردم را مخاطب قرار داد. یا مردمان! در این باد جهل که می وزد، از شما می خواهم خدای تان را دشنام نگوئید، و بوسه بر پای نا خدایان نزنید. من شما را از این آب عبور می دهم، در حالی که دوست داشتم بدانید اگر شما جثه و اندامی چونان پرندگان از عشق داشتید، شاید چوبدست شما نیز معجزات همتی می شد بر روی این موج خروشان... وآنگاه موسی چوبدست اش را بلند کرد، رو به سوی آسمان... یا نیل، یا مادرم اینان پرنده نیستند که به نوک پنجه رقصشان از عرصه سینه تو بگذرند. بگذار اهل این خاک، از خاک بستر تو بگذرند. پس آغوش بگشا، تن دو تکه کن . در میان ظرافت دریای ات، زخمه ای جانکاه از جنس خاک زن، تا من و این مردمان جهل از دل تو بگذریم. می دانم ای عزیز، این خاطره، سالهای سال در جانت می ماند، اما بگذار بگذریم تا با مردمان به پیشواز سرزمین موعودی رویم و آنان ببینندآن دور دورها، سرزمینی است که اگر عشق رفتن به آن در دل نداشته باشند، شاید آ سرزمینی دریایی باشد که در گوشه صحرایی به چشم تشنه ای که ایمان به یافتن آب ندارد، هویت خود را از دست دهد و سرابی شود. سرابی رقصان از گرمای آتش گونه خورشید و خاک. پس تو نیز هویت خود را عوض کن تا مردمان من که اینک شان سراب است از دل تو بگذرند... و چنین شد که نیل شکافتو مردمان از آن گذشتند و موسی بعد از ایشان که نمی فهمیدند و نمی دیدند که بر چه پای می نهند، از تن مجروح مادر گذشت و در غربتی سخت، در حالی که می دانستمنت این تن مجروح بر تمام عمرش یله خواهد شد، پشت به نیلی کرد که برادر خوانده اش را در خود به خشم می بلعید، و موسی به خاطر آن مردمان که پرنده و دگر خواه و حاظر به هیچ گذشتی نبودند، نیل و گذشته اش را فدیه کرد. آری موسی گذشت. ... گذر گاه پیامبران همین است، اگر هزاران هزار نفر هم باشند، باز و باز تنهایی موسی را در کنار رود نیل باور کن و کودکانه گهواره اطمینانت را بر دستان نیلی ببخش، تا حداقل یک نفر باشد که در اعجازش خواب دریا را به خاک مردگان تبدیل نکند....آن مردمان سرزمین بندگی ، شاید اگر آنان اهل پنجه پریدن و پا زدن بر نیل بودند، امروز پرندگان پرواز از نمای نیل ها و کوه ها گذشته بودند و هزاران هزار سرزمین موعود برای فرزندان غربت و ظلم می ساختند. بماند، فقط و فقط تنهایی را برای خدا باور کنیم و ادامه دهیم که شاید از گهواره تک افتاده بر نیل موسایی دیگر بر خیزد. گذر گاه پیامبران- شارمین میمندی نژاد ↗
Mave believed that not being able to see your life clearly, to scrutinize it intelligently, meant that probably you were at the dead center of it, and that couldn't possibly be a bad thing. ↗
Strike experienced a moment of pure clarity: he would never make it out of here, would never rise above his current position as Rodney’s lieutenant, because all the intelligence and prudence and vision came to nothing if it wasn’t tempered and supported by a certain blindness, an oblivious animal will that Rodney had, that he, Strike, did not have. Rodney would survive all this not because of his guts or his brains, but because he understood that there was no real life out here on the street, no real lives other than his own, and that what really mattered was coming first in all things, in all ways and at all costs. ↗
It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life. ↗
Because memory and sensations are so uncertain, so biased, we always rely on a certain reality-call it an alternate reality-to prove the reality of events. To what extent facts we recognize as such really are as they seem, and to what extent these are facts merely because we label them as such, is an impossible distinction to draw. Therefore, in order to pin down reality as reality, we need another reality to relativize the first. Yet that other reality requires a third reality to serve as its grounding. An endless chain is created within our consciousness, and it is the very maintenance of this chain that produces the sensation that we are actually here, that we ourselves exist. ↗
