(there is) no other means of escaping from one's consciousness than to deny it, to look upon it as an organic disease of the terrestrial intelligence - a disease which we must endeavor to cure by an action which must appear to us an action of violent and willful madness, but which, on the other side of our appearances, is probably an action of health. ("Of Immortality")
Think then what it is to live on here eternally and yet be human; toage in soul and see our beloved die and pass to lands whither we maynot hope to follow; to wait while drop by drop the curse of the longcenturies falls upon our imperishable being, like water slow drippingon a diamond that it cannot wear, till they be born anew forgetful ofus, and again sink from our helpless arms into the void unknowable.
Ayesha: The Return of She
Quote Detail
Think then what it is to live on here eternally and yet be human; toage in soul and see our beloved die and pass to lands whither we maynot hope to follow; to wait while drop by drop the curse of the longcenturies falls upon our imperishable being, like water slow drippingon a diamond that it cannot wear, till they be born anew forgetful ofus, and again sink from our helpless arms into the void unknowable.
Quick Answer
What this quote page tells you
This canonical quote page keeps the full saying, the attributed author, any linked work, and the topic tags together so the quote can be cited from one stable URL.
Related Quotes
More quote cards from the same area
Thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought.
Human unhappiness is evidence of our immortality.
Falling in love with a writer is a dangerous thing, isn't it? The only thing you get out of it sometimes is immortality.
There is something way more bigger than just being a writer. Being a writer doesn__ mean you just write about things because you want that. It means that you are capable to feel this world and every emotion deepest than you can, and you__e just sharing that with people all around the world. It means that there is something common between infinity and writing. Writing makes me feel immortal. You just can__ stop, cause there are endless words inside of you_
Most of [the alchemists] were poor; many all but unknown in their own time, many died and saw no fruit of their labours_ Of some the very names are forgotten. But though their names be dead, their works live, and grow and spread over ever fresh generations of youth, showing them fresh steps towards that temple of wisdom which is the knowledge of things as they are.