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“if you are unwilling to endure your own suffering even for an hour, and continually forestall all possible misfortune, if you regard as deserving of annihilation, any suffering and pain generally as evil, as detestable, and as blots on existence, well, you have then, besides your religion of compassion, yet another religion in your heart (and this is perhaps the mother of the former)-the religion of smug ease. Ah, how little you know of the happiness of man, you comfortable and good-natured ones! For happiness and misfortune are brother and sister, and twins, who grow tall together, or, as with you, remain small together!”
― The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs
― The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs
“Even if we act to erase material poverty, there is another greater task, it is to confront the poverty of satisfaction - purpose and dignity - that afflicts us all.
Too much and for too long, we seemed to have surrendered personal excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our Gross National Product, now, is over $800 billion dollars a year, but that Gross National Product - if we judge the United States of America by that - that Gross National Product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage.
It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwood and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl.
It counts napalm and counts nuclear warheads and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children.
Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials.
It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.
And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.
If this is true here at home, so it is true elsewhere in world.”
―
Too much and for too long, we seemed to have surrendered personal excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our Gross National Product, now, is over $800 billion dollars a year, but that Gross National Product - if we judge the United States of America by that - that Gross National Product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage.
It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwood and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl.
It counts napalm and counts nuclear warheads and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children.
Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials.
It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.
And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.
If this is true here at home, so it is true elsewhere in world.”
―
“... Eenmaal in de tuin merkte ze dat ze al haar kleren uittrok. Het verbaasde haar een beetje haar handelingen zoveel eerder plaatsvonden dan haar gewaarwording ervan. Al haar bewegingen leken een volmaakte expressie van luchtigheid en gratie. 'Kijk uit,' zei een deel van haar. 'Doe voorzichtig.' Maar het was hetzelfde deel dat ook waarschuwde wanneer ze te veel dronk. Op dat moment was het zinloos. 'Gewoonte,' dacht ze. 'Altijd als ik op het punt sta gelukkig te worden, klem ik me vast in plaats van me te laten gaan.' Ze schopte haar sandalen uit en stond naakt in de schaduwen. Ze voelde hoe er een vreemde intensiteit in haar werd geboren. Toen ze de rustige tuin rond keek had ze de indruk ze voor het eerst sinds haar jeugd voorwerpen duidelijk zag. Opeens was het leven daar, ze stond er middenin, en zat er niet door een raam naar te kijken. De waardigheid die ze ontleende aan het gevoel deel te hebben aan de kracht en de grootsheid van het leven, kwam haar vertrouwd voor, maar het was jaren geleden dat ze voor het laatst gevoeld had. Ze stapte in het maanlicht en waadde langzaam naar het midden van de vijver. De bodem was glibberig door de klei, het water kwam tot haar middel. Toen ze zich helemaal onderdompelde, dacht ze: 'Nooit word ik meer hysterisch.' Ze voelde dat ze dat soort spanning, die mate van zorg om haarzelf, nooit meer zou bereiken in haar leven. (p. 180-181)”
― The Sheltering Sky
― The Sheltering Sky
“On Painting Rats, and the Glorification of Them. They exist without permission. They are hated, hunted and persecuted. They live in quiet desperation amongst the filth. And yet they are capable of bringing entire civilizations to their knees. If you are dirty, insignificant, and unloved then rats are the ultimate role model.”
― Wall and Piece
― Wall and Piece
“What man
can you show me who places any value on his time, who reckons the worth of each day, who understands that he is
dying daily? For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed,
Whatever years be behind us are in death's hands.”
― Letters from a Stoic
can you show me who places any value on his time, who reckons the worth of each day, who understands that he is
dying daily? For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed,
Whatever years be behind us are in death's hands.”
― Letters from a Stoic
Anarchist & Radical Book Club
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— last activity Dec 18, 2025 01:03AM
This is a group to read and discuss anarchist practice and theory, by gathering a large body of anarchist literature, non-fiction, and theory, as well ...more
Existentialism
— 924 members
— last activity Jan 03, 2021 11:51AM
Existentialism is a philosophical movement that claims that individual human beings have full responsibility for creating the meanings of their own li ...more
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