Attributed No Source Quotes
Quotes tagged as "attributed-no-source"
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“I can find no cause or creed to stimulate me. Why? Is this my fault? I’m not the dedicated type to give myself up to helping others. I believe in God, but not that of the church. I believe in a more realistic God, I think.”
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“I don’t know if it is too vast a subject unless the heat is too great. I want something to which I can give myself heart and soul. True, sincere love does not come easily to me. I feel empty without this. I must find it, maybe in Argentina.”
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“I shall find something worth pouring my all into. I wish I could paint and draw or play the trumpet.”
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“I find writing frustrating. Words seem inadequate for all emotions. I do not have enough mastery of language to put my feelings to paper. Perhaps the author's duty is not to express his feelings but those of the story or novel.”
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“I can't seem to get down to writing. There appears to be no urge. No coherent reason just now.”
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“Am I whingeing, moaning about my life? It is a life of my choosing, God knows. Much I have learnt and how much more I must learn. When can I get down to some serious reading, something instinctive and beneficial?”
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“I must read Dickens, Tolstoy, Hardy, Dostoevsky, Maupassant and Galsworthy. I must read Lawrence, Woolf and Joyce. I must listen to music, read more, and learn more about modern and ancient. I must read Kant, Freud, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Aristotle, Sophocles — I must become a fountain of knowledge. I must go home soon.”
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“It’s funny how the mind wanders. Here I sit, in the Amazon Basin in the tropics, thinking about marriage and other crap. Someday, far in the distance, I shall read this and think of these days. One day, some good will come from these thoughts, maybe? Perhaps they will help someone else – for sure as hell, they don’t seem to do me much bloody good.”
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“After nearly three years on the 'move', being on the run, he feels that unreasonable temper, that jealousy, that self-conceit, that lack of confidence, that stutter, that fear, that hanging back, that hiding one's head in the sand, that bending to society, to impress others when it's not necessary, malaise when he can face them. Difficulties to me, the high pressure, the tension, the nakedness of the world, the empty, emotionless fear we live in. Yes, the harshness of it.”
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“Nevertheless, then he can become a good man. I sometimes think it is necessary to hide away from it all, bury oneself in solitary, surround oneself, go hunting, fishing and walking. Breathe the fresh air. But then, running from it all, not facing up to one's responsibilities, or is one fast getting the hell out of the crappy world?”
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“After nearly three years on the 'move', being on the run, he feels that unreasonable temper, that jealousy, that self-conceit, that lack of confidence, that stutter, that fear, that hanging back, that hiding one's head in the sand, that bending to society, to impress others when it's not necessary, malaise when he can face them. Difficulties to me, the high pressure, the tension, the nakedness of the world, the empty, emotionless fear we live in. Yes, the harshness of it.”
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“Could one carve out this ideal [solitary] life without responsibility? Would not one long for company, for music and dancing? For discussion? Would one long for sex, women, for variation, for laughter? That world could prove to be too difficult. I think the bitter reality is that one would long for other people, however hard this is to take.”
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“Things that revolt me most are here. These are the mirrors of my thoughts. The things I curse most are the things I hate within myself. I can have the friends I want. I won’t deceive. I know it will be necessary to be pleasant to people I don’t like. Do things I don’t want to.”
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“One can work better to do things in comfort and for comfort. Need money, and for money, one has to work. So farming appeals to the independent mind. One is at least self-employed.”
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“Ultimately, I shall write the morals for myself. I am only concerned with living a moral life, but my morality, just now, is ineffectual. I don't have the strength to put it into action, but I must get this strength from within myself. From nowhere else does self-integrity come.”
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“Under this heading of 'strength' is a rot which eats slowly within a man's soul. It must be rooted out in its entirety. Then, I can truly discuss philosophy with others, and until then, any further discussion of philosophy is hypothetical, stolen on self-condemnation; the strength of any particular philosophy lies in the power of the philosopher.”
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“It is why it gets so heated and blocks my ears in philosophical arguments, becomes too often the block, won't draw an argument, or quietly compute because then that argument will either be right, in which it is good, or else wrong, in which case it won't matter because I will appreciate it even more.”
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“Writing here, I realise how much I must learn and how hard it will be to regain my moral integrity. It's not hard to begin. I think of every conscious addition that goes into pulling something back.”
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“So beautifully and tenderly, that day was the only true feeling of complete and utter bliss I have ever felt.”
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“God, how we loved. I thank God for those moments; nothing can ever make me forget them; they were so incredible. It’s funny how memories like that flood through one continually.”
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“I may get caught up somewhere I like and amongst people I like. These people certainly find my stutters very amusing and make no effort to hide that the workings of my mouth are comical.”
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“My stutters. I am sick of being a figure of constant merriment, but then maybe it is doing me good. I don’t know; I must get it cured when I go home. I cannot live much longer with it.”
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“I must be strong in this respect and not let it get me down. Never in my life have I been so consciously aware of my stutter as in these past two or three months. I must somehow destroy it before it destroys me. I have no alternative but to stamp it out.”
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“This stutter of mine is very bad, yesterday and today. I am having extreme difficulty communicating at all. It continually depresses me. I must conquer it. Somehow, I must. I cannot continue my life like this. It is futile and pointless.”
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