For life is tendency, and the essence of a tendency is to develop in the form of a sheaf, creating, by its very growth, divergent directions among which its impetus is divided.
Henri BergsonRead
Homo sapiens, the only creature endowed with reason, is also the only creature to pin its existence on things unreasonable.
Interpretation
Humans are unique in their ability to reason yet often base their lives on irrational beliefs.
This quote by Henri Bergson suggests that while humans are capable of rational thought, they paradoxically choose to focus their lives on beliefs and pursuits that lack reason. It highlights the complexity of human existence, where logic and irrationality coexist, ultimately shaping our motivations and actions.
In practice
In a discussion about why people hold onto unlikely beliefs in difficult times, this quote could illustrate the paradox of human reasoning.
For life is tendency, and the essence of a tendency is to develop in the form of a sheaf, creating, by its very growth, divergent directions among which its impetus is divided.
To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
Laughter is the corrective force which prevents us from becoming cranks.
I believe that the time given to refutation in philosophy is usually time lost. Of the many attacks directed by many thinkers against each other, what now remains? Nothing, or assuredly very little. That which counts and endures is the modicum of positive truth which each contributes. The true statement is, of itself, able to displace the erroneous idea, and becomes, without our having taken the trouble of refuting anyone, the best of refutations.
Religion is to mysticism what popularization is to science
And I also see how this body influences external images: it gives back movement to them.
Balk the enemy's power; force him to reveal himself.
To hate man and worship God seems to be the sum of all the creeds.
It is a condition of monsters that they do not perceive themselves as such. The dragon, you know, hunkered in the village devouring maidens, heard the townsfolk cry 'Monster!' and looked behind him.
Corliss wondered what happens to a book that sits unread on a library shelf for thirty years. Can a book rightfully be called a book if it never gets read? If a tree falls in a forest and gets pulped to make paper for a book that never gets read, but there's nobody there to read it, does it make a sound?
How often it consoles me to think of barbarism once more flooding the world, and real feelings and passions, however rudimentary, taking the place of our wretched hypocrisies.
We enter into solitude first of all to meet our Lord and to be with him and him alone. Only in the context of grace can we face our sin; only in the place of healing do we dare to show our wounds; only with a singleminded attention to Christ can we give up our clinging fears and face our own true nature.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.