Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Even the busiest bee does not move from one flower to another as often as an untamed mind moves from one thought to another.”

Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Author

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Mokokoma Mokhonoana. more

You May Also Like

“Hugh just dropped off the cheese selection for the week. I thought you'd like to sample?" I perked up immediately. Sampling cheese sounded fun. I was starving. The Hobnobs hadn't been particularly filling. The light, airy dining room was a beehive of activity. Four servers buzzed around, readying tables, wrapping silverware. Outside someone was watering the ornamental cabbages. I sat at a table with Chandice and tasted a half dozen local cheeses. A sharp English cheddar with a bite that lingered just at the hint of your jaw, a creamy goat cheese lavished with a sweet onion chutney. Stuffing the last of a very toothsome local blue cheese into my mouth, I looked around at the happy bustle with satisfaction. This is what I had always dreamed of, this bright hive of positive energy.”

“He was lovable the way a child is lovable, and he was capable of returning love with a childlike purity. If love is nevertheless excluded from his work, it's because he never quite felt that he deserved to receive it. He was a lifelong prisoner on the island of himself. What looked like gentle contours from a distance were in fact sheer cliffs. Sometimes only a little of him was crazy, sometimes nearly all of him, but, as an adult, he was never entirely not crazy. What he'd seen of his id while trying to escape his island prison by way of drugs and alcohol, only to find himself even more imprisoned by addiction, seems never to have ceased to be corrosive of his belief in his lovability. Even after he got clean, even decades after his late-adolescent suicide attempt, even after his slow and heroic construction of a life for himself, he felt undeserving. And this feeling was intertwined, ultimately to the point of indistinguishability, with the thought of suicide, which was the one sure way out of his imprisonment; surer than addiction, surer than fiction, and surer, finally, than love.”

“Why did the god of the Western Bible got annoyed when people were united, speaking the same language, and building a high tower together with zero hatred? The god of the Western Bible divided the people and caused confusion amongst themselves ...dividing them into small tribes. Just like how the West did to the African continent. History is mind-blowing.”

“You were my beloved lacrimarium, my purgatoryx, a red light candle night; a wide lost room in our love's dimension. You were the sunlight reflected upon the moon's eyes, the zephyr of dawn that fell down so conscious. You were my broken unguentarium, a paradox, my funerary and my resurrection. You were the sword and the wound; I was the pain and its sorrow. You were my beloved lacrimarium; once a funereal monody - now my heart's unguentarium and this eternal melody.”