Teffy > Teffy's Quotes

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  • #1
    Oscar Wilde
    “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
    Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

  • #2
    Albert Einstein
    “The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day.

    —"Old Man's Advice to Youth: 'Never Lose a Holy Curiosity.'" LIFE Magazine (2 May 1955) p. 64”
    Albert Einstein

  • #3
    George Bernard Shaw
    “Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
    George Bernard Shaw

  • #4
    Cassandra Clare
    “One must always be careful of books," said Tessa, "and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #5
    J.M. Barrie
    “To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
    J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

  • #6
    Harper Lee
    “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”
    Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

  • #7
    John Green
    “When adults say, "Teenagers think they are invincible" with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.”
    John Green, Looking for Alaska

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #9
    George Orwell
    “Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.”
    George Orwell, 1984

  • #10
    Albert Camus
    “You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”
    Albert Camus

  • #11
    Ernest Hemingway
    “I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?”
    Ernest Hemingway

  • #12
    Friedrich Nietzsche
    “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
    Friedrich Nietzsche

  • #13
    George Orwell
    “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”
    George Orwell, 1984

  • #14
    Carl Sagan
    “Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

    The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

    Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

    The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

    It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”
    Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space

  • #15
    Sylvia Plath
    “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar



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