#image

Real life is physical. Give me books instead. Give me the invisibility of the contents of books, the thoughts, the ideas, the images. Let me become part of a book. . . . an intertextual being: a book cyborg, or, considering that books aren't cybernetic, perhaps a bibliorg. ↗

— Scarlett Thomas

#cybernetics #ideas #images #thoughts #life

And my life went to pieces, like a love letter in the rain. ↗

— Will Christopher Baer

#simile #life

There's no reality except the one contained within us. That's why so many people live an unreal life. They take images outside them for reality and never allow the world within them to assert itself. ↗

— Hermann Hesse

#assert #contained #except #images #itself

And the idea of ourselves is our escape from the fact what we really are. ↗

— Jiddu Krishnamurti

#krishnamurti #self #life

She was kahuna, creating more life around her than was actually there, heightening the momentousness of each living thing by simply gazing upon it. ↗

— Kiana Davenport

#image #power #life

We have all got to exert ourselves a little to keep sane, and call things by the same names as other people call them by. ↗

— George Eliot

#self-image #life

By his very profession, a serious fiction writer is a vendor of the sensuous particulars of life, a perceiver and handler of things. His most valuable tools are his sense and his memory; what happens in his mind is primarily pictures. ↗

— Wallace Stegner

#images #imagination #senses #writing #imagination

Fear no more," said Clarissa. Fear no more the heat o' the sun; for the shock of Lady Bruton asking Richard to lunch without her made the moment in which she had stood shiver, as a plant on the river-bed feels the shock of a passing oar and shivers: so she rocked: so she shivered. Millicent Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her. No vulgar jealousy could separate her from Richard. But she feared time itself, and read on Lady Bruton's face, as if it had been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life; how year by year her share was sliced; how little the margin that remained was capable any longer of stretching, of absorbing, as in the youthful years, the colours, salts, tones of existence, so that she filled the room she entered, and felt often as she stood hesitating one moment on the threshold of her drawing-room, an exquisite suspense, such as might stay a diver before plunging while the sea darkens and brightens beneath him, and the waves which threaten to break, but only gently split their surface, roll and conceal and encrust as they just turn over the weeds with pearl. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#jealousy #life #philosophy #time #jealousy

Community service has become a patch for morality. You can devote your life to community service and be a total schmuck. ↗

— Timothy Keller

#image #morality #life

Why is anyone lovable - if it be not that God put His love into each of us? ↗

— Fulton J. Sheen

#image-of-god #love #life