It Philosophy Quotes

Joy is the goal of existence, and joy is not to be stumbled upon, but to be achieved, and the act of treason is to let its vision drown in the swamp of the moment's torture.

Only a philosopher's mind grows wings, since its memory always keeps it as close as possible to those realities by being close to which the gods are divine.

If a man has character, he has also his typical experience, which always recurs.

What sort of philosophers are we, who know absolutely nothing of the origin and destiny of cats?

There's only one day at a time here, then it's tonight and then tomorrow will be today again.

Those who are without compassion cannot see what is seen with the eyes of compassion.

The philosopher whose dealings are with divine order himself acquires the characteristics of order and divinity.

All I know is that I do not know anything

Man is a phase of nature, and only as he is related to nature does he matter, does he have any account whatever above the dust.

There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one when you start and the other when you throw it in the waste-paper basket.

But every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle.

I think that there is nothing, not even crime, more opposed to poetry, to philosophy, ay, to life itself than this incessant business.

But a desperate heart will seduce the mind.

It is a law of nature that every decent man on earth is bound to be a coward and a slave

The philosopher cannot seriously put to himself questions that his civilization has not lived.

Similitude of the heart is like that of a telephone operator between man and God.

It appears that the solution of the problem of time and space is reserved to philosophers who, like Leibniz, are mathematicians, or to mathematicians who, like Einstein, are philosophers.

A pessimist is a man who tells the truth prematurely.

The most altruistic and sustainable philosophies fail before the brute brain stem imperative of self-interest.

Quality questions create a quality life.

Every serious novel is, beyond its immediate thematic preoccupations, a discussion of the craft, a conquest of the form, a conflict with its difficulties and a pursuit of its felicities and beauty.

I am at war... with the principal personage of traditional philosophy, that abstract subject who masquerades as everyone and anyone, but is really a male subject in disguise.

The hunger for facile wisdom is the root of all false philosophy.

All depression has its roots in self-pity, and all self-pity is rooted in people taking themselves too seriously.

There are times when we stop, we sit still. We listen and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper.

Before the first before and after the last after, there is night waiting.

How alive is thought, invisible, yet without thought there is no sight.

How keen everyone is to make this world their home forgetting its impermanence It's like trying to see and name constellations in a fireworks display.

Pose your questions to people and you will get countless useless answers.

The scepticism which men affect towards their higher inspirations is often not an honest doubt, but a guilty negligence, and is a sign of narrow mind and defective wisdom.

We make versions, and true versions make worlds.

Admittedly, art is somewhat like spit. It does not repulse or even worry is while it is still inside of us, but once it exits our body, it becomes disgusting.

Love delayed is lust augmented.

Time (again, Time) like the soul, wears many faces, many bodies and climates and attitudes. The past is one face, the present a second and the future yet another.

If time is precious, no book that will not improve by repeated readings deserves to be read at all.

I had a microscopic eye for the blemish, for the grain of ugliness which to me constituted the sole beauty of the object.

The gods are fond of the cryptic and dislike the evident.

But understanding will always require some effort. You probably wouldn't admire a friend who was good at everything if it cost her no effort.

There are no free lunches in philosophy any more than in real life.

Language is a social art.

He died that day because his body had served its purpose. His soul had done what it came to do, learned what it came to learn, and then was free to leave.

This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.

Truth would quickly cease to be stranger than fiction, once we got as used to it.

Is it better to go with the flow or let the flow go?

I don't deserve a soul, yet I still have one. I know because it hurts.

The menu is not the meal.

There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind.

We are supposed to call poison medicine and we wonder why we're always sick.

There is no key to open the heart of another - except curiosity.

When you realize there is something you don't understand, then you're generally on the right path to understanding all kinds of things.