For now I sit on my final island of the present as my radius of memory shrinks; lost already are the islands of work, of old friendships...Other islands fade as I brood upon them.
The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact. The old myth of the Dying God, without ceasing to be a myth, comes down from the heaven of legend and imagination to the earth of history.
... le religioni non sono altro che residuo dei vecchi tabu selvatici, sistemi di divieto con diverse sovrastrutture ideologiche." "... religions are nothing but remnant of the old wild taboos, prohibition systems with varying ideological superstruct...
Let's say that it belong to me as much as it belongs to anyone alive today. If I am, strictly speaking, living. The old word was undead, you know, but aren't all living things undead. I dislike imprecision.
Language is as old as consciousness, language is practical, real consciousness that exists for other men as well, and only therefore does it also exist for me; language, like consciousness, only arises from the need, the necessity, of intercourse wit...
He really had experienced every tiniest increment of time in the four decades since then, and yet here he was surprised to be suddenly old and crippled. Turned out the rope didn't care if you noticed every daisy on the path to the gallows.
To bring about the new takes not just a development of the old, but a radical leap forward - revolutionary and transforming - and that requires extra factors that were not present before.
Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-colored puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-colored minds.
You can't trust just any old person who comes along with a hundred puffins and a pretty face!
What’s broken is broken—and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I live…I’m too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slates and starting all over.
Unattached and aimless, these old men are always infatuated with little certainties and regularities such as those that ordered the life of Mr. Krupper as seen from outside. Habit is living. Anything unexpected reminds them of death. ("Hard Candy")
Revenge is like politics, one thing always leads to another until bad has become worse, and worse has become worst.
So you’re the little smart ass from Poleglass.” I wanted to point out he sounded like Dr. Seuss but bit my lip and remembered the warning the old lady gave me.
I think houses live their own lives along a time-stream that's different from the ones upon which their owners float, one that's slower. In a house, especially an old one, the past is closer.
How old are you?" "Ah that is a good one. I do not know." "Before cars?" "Before trains, before guns. Before people stole the curves from the high clouds and the angles from the flying flocks to build all their little alphabets.
Youth's longing misconceived inconsistency. Those whom I deemed Changed to my kin, the friends of whom I dreamed, Have aged and lost our old affinity: One has to change to stay akin to me.
Not scared. But excited in that jiggering-on-too-much-hot-sauce kind of way that it's time to step out of my old framework, raw and amorphous, to become something I've never thought of before.
They soon stopped being ten years old. But whatever age they were seemed to be exactly the right age for having fun.
Before taking her into the library, my wife told me she was an old friend in a marriage crisis. A fatuous lie; at her age there are no crises left in marriage, only acceptance and extraction. (General Villiers)
You are in control of your priorities – you can erase old priorities and define new priorities at will.
The power to change is already within you, ready to be discovered. Find new methods to deal with old routines. It is up to you to make the conscious choices that bring a better future.
