There is only one thing that a man really wants to do, all his life; and that is, to find his way to his God, his Morning Star, salute his fellow man, and enjoy the woman who has come the long way with him.
Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation.
A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the luster of the firmament of bards and sages.? Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his.? In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty.
Beware when the great God lets loose a thinker on this planet. Then all things are at risk. It is as when a conflagration has broken out in a great city, and no man knows what is safe, or where it will end. There is not a piece of science, but its flank may be turned to-morrow; there is not any literary reputation, not the so-called eternal names of fame, that may not be revised and condemned. The very hopes of man, the thoughts of his heart, the religion of nations, the manners and morals of mankind, are all at the mercy of a new generalization. Generalization is always a new influx of the divinity into the mind. Hence the thrill that attends it.
In my room as a kid... I'd play a fighter and get knocked to the floor and come back to win.
I was performing in this burlesque group, and we would go to dance rehearsals every day. You'd use every part of your body. Even though some of it is slow, it takes a lot of muscle to be able to dip down and come back up.
I sit on a man's back, choking him and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by all possible means - except by getting off his back.
Surely God would not have created such a being as man, with an ability to grasp the infinite, to exist only for a day! No, no, man was made for immortality.
During my life I have seen, known, and lost too much to be the prey of vain dread; and, as for the hope of immortality, I am as weary of that as I am of gods and kings. For my own sake only I write this; and herein I differ from all other writers, past and to come.
A spirit is, like, your mother, my dad, who've made it. They can come around, but they come around in a loving way because they've already made it to God. Most people make it.
A nation like this cannot fail to be prosperous: when man is both just and energetic the rest comes to him as surplus.
A couple of guys won Academy Awards for the things that I turned down. Today, after coming to terms with everything, after being in therapy for a long time-there are areas where I will compromise.
I'm a girl from a good family who was very well brought up. One day I turned my back on it all and became a bohemian.
I want to be able to look back and say, 'I've done everything I can, and I was successful.' I don't want to look back and say I should have done this or that. I'd like to change things for the younger generation of swimmers coming along.
Hollywood is a place where a man can get stabbed in the back while climbing a ladder.
I have sworn upon the alter of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.
The quality of the Lord's church on earth, cannot be seen by any man, so long as he lives in the world, still less how the church in process of time has turned aside from good to evil.
Exceeds man's might: that dwells with the gods above.
Well first of all, it's hard to shoot a movie and break for a long time and then come back and do, in a sense, one of the biggest scenes that each character had.
But God really did bless me, you know? He really said, All right. Come on. I'm still waiting for you. Get over here. Get over here.
Man was made at the end of the week's work when God was tired.
I sometimes think that God in creating man somewhat overestimated his ability.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but thee who destroys a good book, kills reason its self.
The very impossibility in which I find myself to prove that God is not, discovers to me his existence.
Within the sacred precints the profane is transcended. On the most archaic levels of culture this posibility of transcendence is expressed by various "images of an opening"; here, in the sacred enclosure, communication with gods is made possible; hence there must be a door to the world above, by which the gods cand descend to earth and man can symbolically ascend to heaven.