People quickly grow accustomed to being the slaves of mystery.
Guillaume ApollinaireRead
One day/_x000D_ One day I waited for myself/_x000D_ I said to myself Guillaume it's time you came/_x000D_ So I could know just who I am/_x000D_ I who know others.
Interpretation
This quote reflects a journey of self-discovery and introspection.
In this quote, Apollinaire expresses the importance of self-reflection and the quest for personal identity. He highlights the moment when he realized it was time to turn inward and explore his own being, suggesting that knowing oneself is as crucial as knowing others, which illuminates the tension between external perceptions and internal truths.
In practice
In a motivational speech about personal growth, one might say, 'As Apollinaire reflects, we all must face ourselves to truly understand who we are.'
People quickly grow accustomed to being the slaves of mystery.
Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy.
Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We're afraid.' 'Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We will fall!' 'Come to the edge.' And they came. And he pushed them. And they flew.
To insist on purity is to baptize instinct, to humanize art, and to deify personality.
It's raining my soul, it's raining, but it's raining dead eyes.
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure_x000D_ _x000D_ Les jours s'en vont je demeure
Rebellion cannot exist without the feeling that somewhere, in some way, you are justified.
From the viewpoint of a Jesuit priest I am, of course, and have always been an atheist.
But they know about us, they know, the four corners, and the chairs nearby us. Discerning shadows also know, and even the table keeps quiet.
In the post-individualistic era, science and spirituality will become allies, and human beings will realize a vast potentiality now only dimly felt.
The Poor Man whom everyone speaks of, the Poor Man whom everyone pities, one of the repulsive Poor from whom charitable souls keep their distance, he has still said nothing. Or, rather, he has spoken through the voice of Victor Hugo, Zola, Richepin. At least, they said so. And these shameful impostures fed their authors. Cruel irony, the Poor Man tormented with hunger feeds those who plead his case.
This felicitous supposition declared that there is only one Individual, and that this indivisible Individual is every one of the separate beings in the universe, and that these beings are the instruments and masks of divinity itself.
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