I didn't just love him…I needed him. Not in some desperate "you complete me" sort of way. No, Vincent didn’t make me whole. He improved me. Something about him—something I didn't understand—had a way of amplifying the good in my nature while ...
Nature is typified by strength; humanity by weakness. Nature adheres to an immutable order; humanity to an ever-increasing chaos. Nature recognizes no equality at any level of it's order; humanity preaches an all-prevasive equality and freely hands-o...
It would be indeed unusual if it turned out that the set of orders that our mind is able to construct and accept, having as it does a deep sense of “understanding the essence of things,” matches precisely the set of all possible orders to be dete...
In order for us to live within this finely balanced constellation of complex systems, in order for the Earth to show resilience and last for centuries into the future as an environment of human life, we have to embody three things: a respect for Eart...
Modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make the meaning clearer. It consists in gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by so...
Look around you. Your world-hosts are all in mutiny, in confusion, destitution; on the eve of fiery wreck and madness! They will not march farther for you, on the sixpence a day and supply-demand principle; they will not; nor ought they, nor can they...
But spontaneity is not by any means a blind, disorderly urge, a mere power of caprice. A philosophy restricted to the alternatives of conventional language has no way of conceiving an intelligence which does not work according to plan, according to a...
Certainty implies choice. But there is no real choice in our lives. There is order in the chaos and it is not up to us to understand why everything happens the way it that it does. Find a way to be okay with the chaotic order. It can either be a bles...
Diversity matters. Not only in what we look like, or what religion we practice, or in whom we love, but also in how we live our lives, including the order in which we go about things, the seasons in which we are able to create art. Those who are enga...
Evil is thus a kind of parasite on goodness. If there were no good by which to measure things, evil could not exist. Men sometimes forget this, and say, there is so much evil in the world that there cannot be a God. They are forgetting that, if there...
I know not how the Christians order their own lives, but I know that where their religion begins, Roman rule ends, Rome itself ends, our mode of life ends, the distinction between conquered and conqueror, between rich and poor, lord and slave, ends, ...
The true hero is flawed. The true test of a champion is not whether he can triumph, but whether he can overcome obstacles - preferably of his own making - in order to triumph. A hero without a flaw is of no interest to an audience or to the universe,...
Beware of self-indulgence. The romance surrounding the writing profession carries several myths: that one must suffer in order to be creative; that one must be cantankerous and objectionable in order to be bright; that ego is paramount over skill; th...
[Harry sees a little boy crying, and Fred and George are comforting him] Fred Weasley: What's your name? Nigel 2nd Year: Nigel. George Weasley: It's gonna be fine, Nigel. Fred Weasley: Yeah, it's not as bad as it seems. See? It's fading already. Geor...
Dolores Umbridge: [after Snape leaves] Very well. You give me no choice, Potter. As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with no alternative. The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue. Hermione Granger: [glaring at Umbridge] That...
[first lines] Radio announcer: I don't know about you, it's just too hot today, isn't it? And it's going to get even worse. Temperatures up in the mid 30's Celsius, that's the mid 90's Fahrenheit, tomorrow maybe even hitting 100. So please, remember ...
It is getting dark. In the low mists over the hills, an orange glow broods, as if the trees are on fire. Bats are flooding out from the hundreds of caves that perforate these mountainsides. I watch them plunge into the mists without any hesitation, t...
Art is the social antithesis of society, not directly deducible from it.
Excessive literary production is a social offense.
Socialism is nothing but the capitalism of the lower classes.
Social conservatives say who drives the bus.
