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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I could say analogously that tolerance is the affable appreciation of qualities, views, and actions of other individuals which are foreign to one`s own habits, beliefs, and tastes. Thus being tolerant does not mean being indifferent towards the actions and feelings of others. Understanding and empathy must also be present.”

“I could say the world is ending tomorrow, and no one would care. I could say the world will go forever, and no one would care. I could write words, words, words of hope, of love, of humanity, of peace, of pain and the world will still spin to unchanged tomorrows. The human heart balled up as a fist, just grows old clenching to life, to pride and ego, it won't let go. But the words slip through, as the last pump of blood to a lost web of veins.”

“I could scarcely reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields, of which Whitfield set me an example on Sunday; having been all my life (till very lately) so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin, if it had not been done in a church.”

“I could scream down 90 mountains to less than dust if only one living human had eyes in the head and heart in the body, but there is no chance, my god, no chance. rat with rat dog with dog hog with hog, play the piano drunk listen to the drunk piano, realize the myth of mercy stand still as even a child's voice snarls and we have not been fooled, it was only that we wanted to believe.”

“I could see into the shadows, where the very blades of grass and the leaves and buds of plants were sharply defined though it was a dark night. I was acutely aware of my ears, hot, pulsing, and humming. Now fragrance took command, and I was struck with the scents of the evening. Unable to resist, I rolled on the ground, breathing in the wet tang of dewy grass and the musk of the mud in which it grew. I glided my muzzle through the blades, letting each soft edge tickle my nose. When I lifted it, I caught the delicate fragrance of wildflowers and the powdery sweetness of red clover. The aromas permeated my body as if I could smell with my eyes, my toes, and my tail. I detected the essence of living fowl on the feathers of a fallen bird, but was quickly distracted by the blood-warm effluvia of rabbits and voles wafting up from a small hole in the ground. The air carried the scent of wet leaves after a forest rain. My senses were torn in two, with one thing calling my attention into the air and another, even more compelling, back down to the earth. The miasma of fetid earth, God's creatures, and the aromatic night air swirled in my head and through my body, competing with a cacophony of noises that grew louder and louder. The muffled sound of my paws as they made contact with the ground resonated in my ears. I felt in my body the vibration of all things touching the earth- animals small and large, as they interacted with the same soil that I was treading. The rustle of leaves in the trees, the screech of the wind blowing the hairs on my face, the fluttering of bees' wings, the distant cry of an owl- I heard each as a distinct, sharp sound. My senses were in control of my body. I was a living machine that processed sights, smells, and sounds.”

“I could see Isobel's body floating in a dark, broiling sea. There was a massive storm raging. I knew that I had once been Isobel, but now I didn't have a body. I was floating in all-embracing golden light. I felt comfortable and warm and untouched by the elements. Even though I didn't have a body, I felt quite whole and at one with my surroundings. I realized I could see in all directions. Looking at Isobel's body, I felt no emotions. I felt no fear and no loneliness, although I seemed to be alone. Then the light spread and I appeared to be moving up. I felt tremendous warmth and love and happiness. All around me was golden light, as though I were basking in very bright sunshine. There was no division, no separateness. All was one. It was incredibly beautiful and peaceful. I saw flashes of pastel rainbow hues and heard hundreds of voices singing simple but beautiful melodies. I just floated there happily, feeling I was a part of it all, that I truly belonged.”

“I could see no reason why used tram tickets, bits of driftwood, buttons and old junk from attics and rubbish heaps should not serve well as materials for paintings; they suited the purpose just as well as factory-made paints It is possible to cry out using bits of old rubbish, and that's what I did, gluing and nailing them together.”