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Quote by Mary Oliver

“Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.”

Quote by Mary Oliver

Author

Mary Oliver
Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver is a renowned American poet, born on September 10, 1935. Her poetry is known for its profound depiction of the natural world and delicate insights into life. Oliver's style is simple and direct, which has won her a wide audience. more

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“— Водна лилия — промълви Колин. — Откъде ли я е прихванала?… — Водна лилия ли има? — попита недоверчиво Никола. — Да, в десния бял дроб — отвърна Колин. — Отначало професорът смяташе, че е някакво животно. А ето какво излезе. Видяхме я на екрана. Вече е доста голяма, но сигурно ще успеем да се преборим. — Не можете да си представите какво ми е — изхлипа Клое. — Толкова ме боли, когато тя мърда!”

“The unconscious mind goes on doing things and creating problems. There is no wall at all that you have to push through. The real thing is that you want to push, you are in a hurry. And because you want to push, you have to imagine a wall. It is your imagination. Just try to laugh at your imagination, at your hurry, because this is not the way meditation happens. Laugh, relax, and just be in the moment – watching whatever is going on, outside or inside, in the world or in the mind. You are neither the world nor the mind. You are behind all, just a pure watching consciousness.”

“My favorite words in the world are these: “what” and “if” in conjunction. They question curiosities in simple form and function. “What” is a query of broadest scope. “If" is wonder that fuels all hope. Together they lasso the mind like rope, and spur the wildest deductions!”

“The human mind’s innate ability to imagine and create ensures that we never remain stalled out in who we are. We constantly seek to amend our circumference and circumstances, craft and redraft our emotional, social, political, economic, and artistic being.”

“She opened her eyes slowly and saw that a pale lavender moth had come to a rest on the back of her hand. She watched it from her pillow, wondering if it was real. It reminded her of her husband Matt's favorite T-shirt, which she'd hidden in a bag of sewing, unable to throw it away. It had a large faded moth on the front, the logo of a cover band out of Athens called the Mothballs. That T-shirt, that moth, always brought back a strange memory of when she was a child. She used to draw tattoos of butterflies on her arms with Magic Markers. She would give them names, talk to them, carefully fill in their colors when they started to fade. When the time came that they wanted to be set free, she would blow on them and they would come to life, peeling away from her skin and flying away.”