There's no real theme to these quotes. Just stuff I've written down at some point, for some reason often lost to me.
With us, positive knowledge so greatly overflows our
imaginative powers that our imagination, unable to apprehend the world that is
revealed to it, has no other alternative than to run to myth again.
Levi-Strauss, The Story of Lynx
Every world must be won by interpretation, of which common
sense, science, and religion are all variants.
Stewart Guthrie, Faces in the Clouds
All money, false or true, depends on a confidence trick.
Mary Douglas , Purity and Danger
Truth is what you make it.
Roger Zelazny, Lord of Light
It has not been recorded that any human being has gained a
very large or permanent contentment from meditating upon the fact that he is
better off than others.
Sinclair Lewis, Main Street
You know, I like to think that I am general enough and
common enough so that I have some empathetic approach to nearly every human
emotion and feeling and thought. Of course it is only that I like to think
this. It does not make it true but if it were true I would be a better writer
for it. There is one field of feeling, however, in which either I am different
from most people or they do not tell the truth—perhaps not knowing it or not
daring to face it or perhaps feeling that it is a monstrous thing which should
not be brought to light. I don’t know that this is so. I simply offer these as
reasons why people do not seem to feel as I do. I refer to the will to live. I
have very little of it. This must not be confused with a death wish. I have no
will to die but I can remember no time from earliest childhood until this
morning when I would not have preferred never to have existed. No moment of joy
or excitement or sharp experience of pain or sorrow has even made me want to be
alive if the opposite were possible. You see it is no longing for death but a kind
of hunger never to have lived. The few times I have stated this I have been
attacked with everything from straight disbelief to a kind of hatred as though
I were a traitor to life. And perhaps I am.
John Steinbeck, Journal of a Novel
I remember the lies, but the truth escapes me.
Paul McGarity
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.