A strong hatred is the best lamp to bear in our hands as we go over the dark places of life, cutting away the dead things men tell us to revere.
Rebecca WestRead
Life ought to be a struggle of desire toward adventures whose nobility will fertilize the soul.
Interpretation
Life should be about pursuing noble adventures that enrich our inner selves.
Rebecca West suggests that life's purpose lies in the quest for meaningful experiences and adventures that elevate our spirit and growth. This struggle driven by desire fosters personal enrichment, indicating that worthwhile pursuits can lead to a more fulfilling existence.
In practice
In a motivational speech about following one's dreams.
A strong hatred is the best lamp to bear in our hands as we go over the dark places of life, cutting away the dead things men tell us to revere.
works of art feel towards human beings exactly as we do towards ghosts. The transparency of spectres, the diffuseness in space which lets them drift through doors and walls, and their smell of death, disgust us not more than we disgust works of art by our meaninglessness, our diffuseness in time which lets us drift through three score years and ten without a quarter as much significance as a picture establishes instantaneously.
I wonder if we are all wrong about each other, if we are just composing unwritten novels about the people we meet?
All good biography, as all good fiction, comes down to the study of original sin, of our inherent disposition to choose death when we ought to choose life.
It's my profession to bring people from various outlying districts of the mind to the normal. There seems to be a general feeling it's the place where they ought to be. Sometimes I don't see the urgency myself.
God forbid that any book should be banned. The practice is as indefensible as infanticide.
Cobb lived off the field as though he wished to live forever. He lived on the field as though it was his last day.
Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced, stray dogs that amble in, sniff around a bit and simply never leave. Our lives are measured by these.
I have watched patients stand and gaze longingly toward the city they in all likelihood will never enter again. It means liberty and life; it seems so near, and yet heaven is not further from hell
Most people dread finding out when they come to die that they have never really lived.
All my life, I never really felt comfortable anywhere in New York, except maybe in an apartment somewhere.
A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.
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