The science of life is a superb and dazzlingly lighted hall which may be reached only by passing through a long and ghastly kitchen.
Claude BernardRead
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The science of life is a superb and dazzlingly lighted hall which may be reached only by passing through a long and ghastly kitchen.
As a general rule, the most successful man in life is the man who has the best information.
Life is always fatal. No one gets out of it alive
Life is art. Art is life. I never separate it. I don’t feel that much anger. I equally have a lot of joy.
The essence of life is doing things for their own sakes.
Art requires imagination. It requires Creativity. Creativity requires experience and experience comes from your life. And your life is expressed in your art.
Living your best life is to find out what your calling is. Your real job on Earth is to find out what you were meant to be doing & to find a way to do that thing.
Most of the time in married life is taken up by talk.
The dedicated life is worth living. You must give with your whole heart.
Your life is the manifestation of your dream; it is an art. You can change your life anytime if you aren't enjoying the dream.
Life is weaker than Death and Death is weaker than Truth.
That aim in life is highest which requires the highest and finest discipline.
Thy lot or portion of life is seeking after thee; therefore be at rest from seeking after it.
Law of Contrariness: Our chief want in life is somebody who shall make us do what we can. Having found them, we shall then hate them for it.
The greatest help to spiritual life is meditation. In meditation we divest ourselves of all material condition and feel our divine nature.
Life is what happens to you while you're planning on doing something else.
Perhaps that is what life is all about—the search for such a connection. The search for magic. The search for the inexplicable. Not in order to explain it, or contain it. Simply in order to feel it. Because in that recognition of the sublime, we see for a moment the entire universe in the palm of our hand. And in that moment, we touch the face of God.
Every man who has reached even his intellectual teens begins to suspect that life is no farce; that it is not genteel comedy even; that it flowers and fructifies on the contrary out of the profoundest tragic depths of the essential dearth in which its subject's roots are plunged. The natural inheritance of everyone who is capable of spiritual life is an unsubdued forest where the wolf howls and the obscene bird of night chatters.
I wonder if we might pledge ourselves to remember what life is really all about—not to be afraid that we're less flashy than the next, not to worry that our influence is not that of a tornado, but rather that of a grain of sand in an oyster! Do we have that kind of patience?
The real issue in life is not how many blessings we have, but what we do with our blessings. Some people have many blessings and hoard them. Some have few and give everything away.
But knowledge does not protect one. Life is contemptuous of knowledge; it forces it to sit in the anterooms, to wait outside. Passion, energy, lies: these are what life admires. Still, anything can be endured if all humanity is watching. The martyrs prove it. We live in the attention of others. We turn to it as flowers to the sun.
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