Virtue is under certain circumstances merely an honorable form of stupidity: who could be ill-disposed toward it on that account? And this kind of virtue has not been outlived even today. A kind of sturdy peasant simplicity, which, however, is possib...
I never heard communism seriously propounded or argued; perhaps I was too deeply preoccupied with my own dissipations; and, as it turned out in the end it was a way of thought that I was denied or spared by a geographical fluke. From the end of these...
Stories don’t teach us to be good; it isn’t as simple as that. They show us what it feels like to be good, or to be bad. They show us people like ourselves doing right things and wrong things, acting bravely or acting meanly, being cruel or being...
Christ's version of kindness: I know you are hurt. I contributed to that. Maybe, I should have said more. Done more. Listened. I am sorry for my part in the situation. I am sorry if I caused you any pain or confused you with my actions or words. How ...
Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men, we didin't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we didn't have any delinquents. Without a prison, there can't be no delinquents. We had no locks nor keys therefore among us there were n...
Harvey Milk: Hey, I like the way your pants fit... Where are you from, kid? Cleve Jones: [laughs] Sorry old man, not interested. Harvey Milk: I'm Harvey Milk. I'm running for Supervisor. What's your name? Cleve Jones: Cleve... Jones. Harvey Milk: Wel...
Remy: [cooking a mushroom over the chimney] The key is to keep turning it. Get the smoky flavor niiice and even... [thunder rumbles in the distance] Emile: That storm's getting closer. Hey, Remy? You think that maybe we shouldn't be so... [lightning ...
Old Man: As the pattern gets more intricate and subtle, being swept along is no longer enough. Boat Car Guy: Man this must be like... parallel universe night. You know that cat that was just in here? Just ran out the door? Well, he comes up to the co...
Lady Marian Fitzswalter: Tell me: when you are in love, is it hard to think of anybody but one person? Bess: Yes, indeed, m'lady, and sometimes it's a bit of trouble sleeping. Lady Marian Fitzswalter: I know! But it's a nice kind of not sleeping! Bes...
One of the things that I have learned, one of the attainments of the long travails and tribulations, has been, I think, coming to a simpler sense of myself that I think correlates to a simpler sense of others. Something closer to what I now call the ...
Reality is a very subjective affair. I can only define it as a kind of gradual accumulation of information; and as specialization. If we take a lily, for instance, or any other kind of natural object, a lily is more real to a naturalist than it is to...
So my life is a point-counterpoint, a kind of fugue, and a falling away–and everything winds up being lost to me, and everything falls into oblivion, or into the hands of the other man.
"If the person you were fighting had any kind of wound,worry it and keep at it And the pain would be much more intense.It was the psychological angle and all.Once a cut was there,it was human nature to try to protect it from more harm.
What kind of slut do you think I am?” Theo bumped his hips against hers. “This might not be the best moment to ask me that.
True compassion is undirected & holds no conceptual focus. That kind of genuine, true compassion is only possible after realizing emptiness.
Possession of the box conferred a kind of power on the wielder--which was that anyone, confronted with the hypnotic glass eye, would submissively obey the most peremptory orders about stance and expression.
An uncertain evil causes anxiety because, at the bottom of one's heart, one goes on hoping till the last moment that it may not be true; a certain evil, on the other hand, instills, for a time, a kind of dreary tranquillity.
Some people are attracted to sickness, to the kind of madness where sparks fly off the head, to the incoherence of despair, masked by nervous energy, which winds up looking like bewildered joy.
I don't want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted just like that, and it didn't mean anything? What then?
They weren't making much sense; she decided they were having an argument as old and comfortable as an armchair, the kind of argument that no one ever really wins or loses, but which can go on for ever, if both parties are willing.
