Laura > Laura's Quotes

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  • #1
    Franz Kafka
    “You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.”
    Franz Kafka


  • #2
    Allen Ginsberg
    “We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're blessed
    by our own seed & hairy naked
    accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.”
    Allen Ginsberg, Howl and Other Poems


  • #3
    W.B. Yeats
    “Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.”
    W.B. Yeats


  • #4
    Mark Twain
    “Man is the only animal that deals in that atrocity of atrocities War. He is the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind. He is the only animal that for sordid wages will march out... and help to slaughter strangers of his own species who have done him no harm and with whom he has no quarrel.... And in the intervals between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for the universal brotherhood of man with his mouth.”
    Mark Twain


  • #5
    J.M. Barrie
    “Stars are beautiful, but they must not take an active part in anything, they must just look on forever. It is a punishment put on them for something they did so long ago that no star now knows what it was.”
    J.M. Barrie


  • #6
    J.M. Barrie
    “If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire.”
    J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


  • #7
    J.M. Barrie
    “Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremour ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter felt just the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, "To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
    J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


  • #8
    Rumi
    “Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.”
    Rumi


  • #9
    Ted Hughes
    “The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.”
    Ted Hughes, Letters of Ted Hughes


  • #10
    Ted Hughes
    “Because it is occasionally possible, just for brief moments, to find the words that will unlock the doors of all those many mansions inside the head and express something - perhaps not much, just something - of the crush of information that presses in on us from the way a crow flies over and the way a man walks and the look of a street and from what we did one day a dozen years ago. Words that will express something of the deep complexity that makes us precisely the way we are, from the momentary effect of the barometer to the force that created men distinct from trees. Something of the inaudible music that moves us along in our bodies from moment to moment like water in a river. Something of the spirit of the snowflake in the water of the river. Something of the duplicity and the relativity and the merely fleeting quality of all this. Something of the almighty importance of it and something of the utter meaninglessness. And when words can manage something of this, and manage it in a moment, of time, and in that same moment, make out of it all the vital signature of a human being - not of an atom, or of a geometrical diagram, or of a heap of lenses - but a human being, we call it poetry.”
    Ted Hughes


  • #11
    Ted Hughes
    “I had let it all grow. I had supposed
    It was all OK. Your life
    Was a liner I voyaged in.
    Costly education had fitted you out.
    Financiers and committees and consultants
    Effaced themselves in the gleam of your finish.
    You trembled with the new life of those engines.

    That first morning,
    Before your first class at College, you sat there
    Sipping coffee. Now I know, as I did not,
    What eyes waited at the back of the class
    To check your first professional performance
    Against their expectations. What assessors
    Waited to see you justify the cost
    And redeem their gamble. What a furnace
    Of eyes waited to prove your metal. I watched
    The strange dummy stiffness, the misery,
    Of your blue flannel suit, its straitjacket, ugly
    Half-approximation to your idea
    Of the properties you hoped to ease into,
    And your horror in it. And the tanned
    Almost green undertinge of your face
    Shrunk to its wick, your scar lumpish, your plaited
    Head pathetically tiny.

    You waited,
    Knowing yourself helpless in the tweezers
    Of the life that judges you, and I saw
    The flayed nerve, the unhealable face-wound
    Which was all you had for courage.
    I saw that what you gripped, as you sipped,
    Were terrors that killed you once already.
    Now I see, I saw, sitting, the lonely
    Girl who was going to die.

    That blue suit.
    A mad, execution uniform,
    Survived your sentence. But then I sat, stilled,
    Unable to fathom what stilled you
    As I looked at you, as I am stilled
    Permanently now, permanently
    Bending so briefly at your open coffin.”
    Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters


  • #12
    Jack Kerouac
    “Happiness consists in realizing it is all a great strange dream”
    Jack Kerouac


  • #13
    Jack Kerouac
    “I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums


  • #14
    Jack Kerouac
    “What do you want out of life?" I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls.
    I don't know," she said. "Just wait on tables and try to get along." She yawned. I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn. I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together; saying that, and planning to leave Denver in two days. She turned away wearily. We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad.”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road


  • #15
    Jack Kerouac
    “The details are the life of it, I insist, say everything on your mind, don’t hold back, don’t analyze or anything as you go along, say it out.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans


  • #16
    Jack Kerouac
    “colleges being nothing but grooming schools for the middle-class non-identity which usually finds its perfect expression on the outskirts of the campus in rows of well-to-do houses with lawns and television sets in each living room with everybody looking at the same thing and thinking the same thing at the same time while the Japhies of the world go prowling in the wilderness to hear the voice crying in the wilderness, to find the ecstacy of the stars, to find the dark mysterious secret of the origin of faceless wonderless crapulous civilization.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums
    tags: irie


  • #17
    Christopher McCandless
    “So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.”
    Christopher McCandless


  • #18
    Jack Kerouac
    “I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night. It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don't worry. It's all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended. There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Portable Jack Kerouac


  • #19
    Jack Kerouac
    “On soft Spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars - Something good will come out of all things yet - And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word.”
    Jack Kerouac, Big Sur


  • #20
    Jack Kerouac
    “The closer you get to real matter, rock air fire and wood, boy, the more spiritual the world is.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums


  • #21
    Jack Kerouac
    “All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together.”
    Jack Kerouac


  • #22
    Jack Kerouac
    “And for just a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into timeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining in bright Mind Essence, innumerable lotuslands falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven. I could hear an indescribable seething roar which wasn't in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds. I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it. I realized it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of the wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water. I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein; like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled. I thought I was going to die the very next moment. But I didn't die...”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road


  • #23
    Jack Kerouac
    “But why think about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road


  • #24
    Jack Kerouac
    “Things are so hard to figure out when you live from day to day in this feverish and silly world. ”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road: The Original Scroll


  • #25
    Jack Kerouac
    “Roaring dreams take place in a perfectly silent mind. Now that we know this, throw the raft away.”
    Jack Kerouac, The Scripture of the Golden Eternity


  • #26
    Jack Kerouac
    “I promise I shall never give up, and that I'll die yelling and laughing, and that until then I'll rush around this world I insist is holy and pull at everyone's lapel and make them confess to me and to all.”
    Jack Kerouac


  • #27
    Jack Kerouac
    “Ah, it was a fine night, a warm night, a wine-drinking night, a moony night, and a night to hug your girl and talk and spit and be heavengoing.”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road


  • #28
    Jack Kerouac
    “But I remember seeing a mess of leaves suddenly go skittering in the wind and into the creek, then floating rapidly down the creek towards the sea, making me feel a nameless horror even then of 'Oh my God, we're all being swept away to sea no matter what we know or say or do”
    Jack Kerouac, Big Sur


  • #29
    William S. Burroughs
    “If I had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes.”
    William S. Burroughs


  • #30
    William S. Burroughs
    “I bear my burden proudly for all to see, to conquer prejudice and ignorance and hate with knowledge and sincerity and love. Whenever you are threatened by a hostile presence, you emit a thick cloud of love like an octopus squirts out ink...”
    William S. Burroughs




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