meaning-of-life

... Without memory how will you ever find your way back to where you came from?

Lat at nigh have you experienced a vision of the person you might become, the work you could accomplish, the realized being you were mean to be? Are you a writer who doesn't write, a painter who doesn't pain, an entrepreneur who never starts a venture? Then you know what Resistance is.

Our instrumental part in the symphony of life is to allow love to create a space within our own awareness, through which the undreamed mystery may emerge as a knowable reality.

There is only Love -- and Stories. All else is but a shadow dream.

We all have cracks and tears and shattered glass within our souls. Some have more than others. We do not wish to seek one who has none; but we wish to find the one who can say "look at me, look at this." We wish to find the one who sees every bit of broken glass and who will put those pieces into the palms of our hands and say "please keep them." And we wish to be that kind of person, too. This is how it should be.

The old adage that people only want what they can__ have or what they can__ tame_ is totally primitive. A being of higher origins will know instinctively that life on earth is a series of chances, moments and concepts. That__ really all that you have. So when you find one of these things and it makes you burn, or it makes you feel peace inside, or it makes you look forwards and backwards and here all at the same time_ that__ when you know to hold onto it. And you hold onto it with every fiber of your being. Because it__ in the holding on of these chances and moments and concepts that life is lived. Every other kind of living is only in vitro. I don__ care what psychologists say today about how the human mind works. Because one day they will reach this pinnacle and they will see what I see and they will look upon the old ways as primitive. As long and gone. We do not wish to have what we can__ have. We wish to burn in whatever flame we have stepped into.

I was pondering the reason why we are all here in this life, and what did it all mean. It seemed to me that we had all been invited to one big party, but no-one__ been told what we__e all celebrating.

Always remember that the most valuable thing that you can do in this world, is to live a life of love. Love truly those who were given you to be loved. Love truly the gifts you were given in life, as well as your ability to live and share those gifts. Even if the only people who remember your name, are the five people you have loved and who have loved you in this life, that makes you no less important than the person who is recognised by every individual in this world! In seeking to change the world out there that you live in, do make sure that you are not changing it in order to make it become more like you; rather, live to change yourself, to know yourself, to grow and to become. This is the highest reach of man. The downfall of world-changers in this day and age, is that those who wish to change the world, only wish to influence the world of their own beliefs, choices, and opinions. But this is not how the world is changed. This planet is changed, only when we heal and grow and know the worlds within ourselves. Because it is in the healing of worlds unique and innumerable, that this one we share will find her hope. The only person who needs to know you, is you. And then the people who are given to you to love, who love you truly in return. _ The Conversation of Venusta

It's never too early to think about your legacy," she would say. "Don't you want to leave some kind of mark that you were here?

A great mystery lies in the repetition and continuity of the renewal of that which is past. Culture perpetuates itself in memory and the big job is the reawakening of memory.

World is a divine play. At the beginning and at the end, we are the same.

He tried to disguise how tired and ill he was, how depressing the thought of death was to him and how he spent his days and nights thinking up schemes of living beyond what the prognosis said. His hope, if not his heart, would find a way.

I feel the reason we are all here, our purpose of being, is to help others find their little piece of happiness and heaven right here on earth.

Actually, what does man live for?_ __o think about it. Any other question?_ __es. Why does he die just when he has done that and has become a bit more sensible?_ __ome people die without having become more sensible._ __on__ evade my question. And don__ start talking about the transmigration of souls._ ____l ask you something else first. Lions kill antelopes; spiders flies; foxes chickens; which is the only race in the world that wars on itself uninterruptedly, fighting and killing one another?_ __hose are questions for children. The crown of creation, of course, the human being_ who invented the words love, kindness, and mercy._ __ood. And who is the only being in Nature that is capable of committing suicide and does it?_ __gain the human being_ who invented eternity, God, and resurrection._ __xcellent,_ Ravic said. __ou see of how many contradictions we consist. And you want to know why we die?

What we think affects our life so much that life is for each of us just what we think it is. So the question of what life means has individual answers for each of us.

Any man can grow a moustache and a beard! And this does not make him a man! What it takes to be a man is to help a needy person, stand up for the innocent, and lead one's life in the most courteous, dignified and sophisticated way possible to a man.

Hard and cruel though it may seem," said the Cardinal, "yet we, who hold our high office as keepers and watchmen to the story, may tell you, verily, that to its human characters there is salvation in nothing else in the universe. If you tell them -- you compassionate and accommodating human readers -- that they may bring their distress and anguish before any other authority, you will be cruelly deceiving and mocking them. For within our whole universe the story only has authority to answer that cry of heart of its characters, that one cry of heart of each of them: 'Who am I?

I__ a keeper of flocks.The flock is my thoughtsAnd my thoughts are all sensations.I think with my eyes and with my earsAnd with my hands and feetAnd with my nose and mouth.Thinking about a flower is seeing and smelling itAnd eating a piece of fruit is knowing its meaning.That__ why when on a hot dayI feel sad from liking it so much,And I throw myself lengthwise on the grassAnd shut my hot eyes,And feeling my whole body lying on reality,I know the truth and I__ happy.