Quotessence
Home / Popular Quotes

Top 1000 Popular Quotes

Browse the most popular quotes selected for reading, saving, copying, and sharing. This page displays 100 quotes per page.

Popular Quotes 101-200

“There are essentially two different philosophies at play in our politics: one that says, we are all in this together, let's help each other; and the other that says, I got mine, you are on your own. One is compassionate; the other is indifferent to the suffering of others.”

“All these indifferent passions, or passions born of indifference, all these negative passions, culminate in hatred. A strange expression: `I've got the hate' [J'ai la haine]. No object. It is like `I'm demonstrating', but for whom, for what? `I take responsibility' [J'assume], but for what? Nothing in particular. One perhaps takes responsibility precisely for the nothing. One demonstrates for or against the nothing -- how are we to know? This is the fate of all these intransitive verbs. The graffiti said: `I exist', `I live at this particular place'. This was stated with a kind of exultation, yet at the same time it said: `There is no meaning to my life'. Similarly, `I've got the hate' says at the same time: `This hate I have has no object'; `There's no meaning to it'. Hatred is doubtless something which does indeed outlive any definable object, and feeds on the disappearance of that object. Who are we to take against today? There, precisely, is the object: the absent other of hatred. `Having' hatred is like a sort of potential of -- negative and reactive -- energy, but energy all the same. These are, indeed, the only passions we have today: hatred, disgust, allergy, aversion, rejection and disaffection. We no longer know what we want, but we know what we don't want. In its pure expression of rejection, it is a non-negotiable, irremediable passion. Yet there is in it something like an invitation to the absent other to offer himself as an object for that hatred. The dream of hatred is to give rise to a heartfelt enmity, which is scarcely available at all in our world now, as all conflicts are immediately contained. Over against the hatred born of rivalry and conflict there is a hatred born of accumulated indifference which can suddenly crystallize in an extreme physical outburst. We are not speaking of class hatred now, which, paradoxically, remained a bourgeois passion. That had a target, and was the driving force behind historical action. This hatred is externalized only in episodes of `acting-out'. It does not give rise to historical violence, but to a virulence born of disaffection with politics and history. In this sense, it is the characteristic passion not of the end of history but of a history without end, a history which is a dead-end, since there has been no resolution of all the problems it posed. It is possible that beyond the end, in those reaches where things turn around, there is room for an indeterminate passion, where what remains of energy also turns around, like time, into a negative passion.”

“There’s nothing the dead can tell you that the living can’t,” he’d said to me. “World is indifferent to your feelings. World has no responsibility and no reasons why a serial killer can randomly create orphans and then disappear, and no antipathy for assholes who get drunk and kill, then go free a couple of years later. You gotta look for joy, not reasons and explanations.”

“The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love, The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations, Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events; These come to me days and nights and go from me again, But they are not the Me myself.”

“Terror is as much a part of the concept of truth as runniness is of the concept of j am. We wouldn't like jam if it didn't, by its very nature, ooze. We wouldn't like truth if it wasn't sticky, if, from time to time, it didn't ooze blood. Verifying to the point of dizziness the useless objectivity of things: science. Verifying to the point of dizziness the useless subjectivity of desire: sexual libera tion. An object in which there is nothing to see. A body in which there is nothing to desire. There is a particular grace in indifference to one's own life and the admission of that indifference is touching, just so long as you are told with tenderness: I am incapable of loving you, rather than being told 'I love you', with all the affectation appropriate to such a statement. There are indeed certain women who can only love in proportion to the degree of boredom they feel with themselves: with them, above all you must not bring them out of their boredom. There is, however, a great difference between real and affected indifference: only the former touches us. But it is very rare, almost as rare as beauty or madness.”

“All the imaginaries of breakup are fading. Children finding it impossible to leave their families. It's the same with couples. They no longer split up. Why bother? Things are just the same everywhere else. You just negotiate your mutual indifference. It's the same with the political situation. Whatever the government, no one's keen to change it, since every alternative illusion is dead. Thus the politi cal relationship has got itself into the same conjugal neurosis as the couple or the rising generation. The price to be paid is that of a low intensity, a scaled-down demand, an air-conditioned intelligence which allows us never to cross the threshold of breakup.”

“Humanizing Democracy (A Sonnet) Dictatorship is rule of the cunning, Democracy is rule of the halfwits. Both are quite degrading for society, Cause neither of them is born of merits. Progress requires practice of reason, Immersed in a whole lot of love. But when the people prefer indifference, Society regresses down the savage curve. Character is the foundation of civilization, Yet that character is taken for granted. All talk and no walk has made us shallow, Separatism has made our soul tainted. So it’s time we feed values into democracy, While abolishing all populist fallacy.”

“These, too [ideologies], have disappeared. And we survive only by a reflex action of collective credulity, which consists not only in absorbing everything put about under the heading of news or information, but in believing in the principle and transcendence of information. While, at the same time, remaining deeply incredulous and resistant to that kind of knee-jerk consensus. We no more believe in information by divine right than serfs ever believed they were serfs by divine right, but we act as though we do. Behind this façade, a gigantic principle of incredulity is growing up, a principle of secret disaffection and the denial of any social bond. There is a considerable danger of the inertia threshold being crossed, danger of a potential gravitational collapse by an exceeding of the critical mass, thanks to the absorption by the system of all negative elements: crashes, errors, scandals, conflicts -- everything is absorbed back into it as though by evaporation. All the wastes and disorders are digested and recycled. Maddening metastability which gives rise to a whole range of violent, virulent, destabilizing abreactions, which are the symptom of that collapse. All our contemporary passions arise from this: objectless, negative passions, all born of indifference, all built (in the absence of a real object) on a virtual other, and thus doomed to crystallize for preference on any old thing at all.”

“This is free-market fanaticism, the fanaticism of indifference to its own values and, for that very reason, total intolerance towards those who differ by any passion whatsoever. The New World Order implies the extermination of everything different to integrate it into an indifferent world order. Is there still room between these two fanaticisms for a non-believer to exercise his liberty?”

“Liberationville (The Sonnet) When the blood is boiling and conscience is screaming, Stop not wishing for a messiah to appear. When the heart is beating and the mind is restless, Sit not praying for the miseries to disappear. When the veins are burning and nerves are revolting, Stay not cooped up in a cocoon of petty pleasures. When the lungs are choking and cells are aching, Stay not inanimate out of insecurities and fears. When the spine is bending and the head is drooping, Stay not silent submitting to tribal identity. When the knees are trembling and the throat is thirsty, Stand not frail as servant of conformity. When the eyes are teary and lips are dreary, never consider sitting still. Obliterate loyalty to atrocities of the norm waking up to liberationville.”

“Let me advise you, then, to form the habit to take some of your solitude with you into society, to learn to be to some extent alone even though you are in company; not to say at once what you think, and, on the other hand, not to attach too precise a meaning to what others say; rather, not ot expect much of them, either morally or intellectually, and to strenghten yourself in the feeling of indifference to their opinion, which is the surest way of always practicing a praiseworhty toleration. If you do that, you will not live so much with other people, though you may appear to move amongst them: your relation to them will be of a purely objective character. This precaution will keep you from too close contact with society, and therefore secure you from being contamined or even outraged by it.”

“My soul is callous, it is impassive... I put any sentiment whatever at defiance to attain it, with the exception of pleasure. I am mistress of that soul's movements and affections, of its desires, of its impulsions; with me, everything is under the unchallenged control of mind; and there's worse yet... for my mind is appalling. But I am not complaining, I cherish my vices, I abhor virtue; I am the sworn enemy of all religions, of all gods and godlings, I fear neither the ills of life nor what follows death; and when you're like me, you're happy.”

“Wtedy znów Krzyś, który, z podbródkiem opartym na dłoni, dalej patrzył na świat, zawołał nagle: - Puchatku! - Co? - rzekł Puchatek. - A kiedy ja... Puchatku... kiedy ja... - Co, Krzysiu? - Kiedy już przestanę nic nie robić... - Już zupełnie? - No, w każdym razie nie tak bardzo... Puchatek czekał na dalszy ciąg, lecz Krzyś zamilkł znowu. - Co, Krzysiu? Powiedz! - rzekł Puchatek. - Powiedz, Puchatku, kiedy ja już... rozumiesz... kiedy ja już przestanę nic nie robić, czy będziesz tu czasami przychodził? - Ja? - Tak, Puchatku. - A czy ty też tu będziesz? - Będę, Puchatku, będę naprawdę, przyrzekam ci. - To dobrze - rzekł Puchatek - Puchatku, przyrzeknij mi, że nigdy o mnie nie zapomnisz. Nawet kiedy będę miał sto lat. Puchatek pomyślał troszkę. - A ile lat ja wtedy będę miał? - zapytał. - Dziewięćdziesiąt dziewięć. Puchatek kiwnąłłebkiem. - Przyrzekam - odpowiedział. Z oczyma ciągle zwróconymi na świat Krzyś wyciągnął rękę i poszukałłapki Puchatka. - Puchatku - rzekł Krzyś poważnie - jeśli ja... jeśli ja już nie będę... - tu urwał i zaczął znowu - ty zrozumiesz, prawda? - Co zrozumiem? - Ach, nic! - zaśmiał się Krzyś i zerwał się na nogi. - Chodźmy! - Dokąd? - spytał Puchatek. - Wszystko jedno dokąd - rzekł Krzyś. * * * I poszli, trzymając się za ręce. I dokądkolwiek pójdą i cokolwiek im się zdarzy po drodze, mały chłopczyk i jego Miś będą zawsze bawić się wesoło ze sobą w tym Zaczarowanym Miejscu na skraju Lasu.”

“Let me advise you, then, to form the habit to take some of your solitude with you into society, to learn to be to some extent alone even though you are in company; not to say at once what you think, and, on the other hand,, not to attach too preceise a meaning to what others say; rather, not ot expect much of them, either morally or intellectually, and to strenghten yourself in the feeling of indifference to their opinion, which is the surest way of always practicing a praiseworhty toleration. If you do that, you will not live so much with other people, though you may appear to move amongst them: your relation to them will be of a purely objective character. This precaution will keep you from too close contact with society, and therefore secure you from being contamined or even outraged by it.”

“People are suffering, what's that to us! Nation is suffering, what's that to us! Society is suffering, what’s that to us! The world is suffering, what's that to us! Such mentality has shoved our entire human civilization into the abyss of misery.”

“You will find love. Believe me. But in order to find it, I think you have to prepare yourself for a life alone and be at peace with that. It’s a real tightrope walk. I get it. But you won’t tell tepid to fuck off if you don’t believe in your heart that you will rock it out one way or another.”

“Divest yourself of the dislike you have taken to circumstantial details; I have often told you, and you ought yourself to feel the truth of this remark, that they are as dear to us from those we love, as they are tedious and disagreeable from others. If they are displeasing to us, it is only from the indifference we feel for those who write them.”

“Cruelly exploiting and slaughtering human beings is widely recognized as spiritually problematic, but the veal industry is not, battery cages are not, foie gras and the use of farrowing crates are not, debeaking and slaughter lines are not. How can this be? Anymal suffering is extreme on factory farms, massive numbers of premature deaths are the expected end, and both are sanctioned not only by the government but also by the masses—including those who affiliate with a particular religious tradition and take their religious commitments seriously. The reason for this cruelty and indifference is obvious: With human beings creating the rules, anymals are the last to be noticed and the most likely to be discarded or exploited. Consequently, wherever humanity suffers, anymals suffer yet more.”

“Men are shit. She has known this since Percy, who took her virginity on the sand dunes at Santa Cruz but never called her back for a third date. Since Jean-Claude, who let her fly from the country she loved and back to the one she hated, without ever thinking to follow. Since Lenny Lynden, who accepted Terra as her replacement as easily as pancakes instead of French toast. For as long as she has been a woman, Evelyn has understood the fundamental indifference of men.”

“The real question I am asking here is the one Marcuse asked in the sixties. How does a way of life break down? How does it break down. And Marcuse doesn’t give the pat Marxist answer, which means economically, and we ought to be glad that that pat Marxist answer is false because if a society could be driven to ruin by debt, you know, the way a lot of people said the Russians – the Soviet Union – fell because it was broke. Let’s hope that’s not true [laughs] since we are broke, let’s hope that’s false. As a generalisation, we had better hope it is false. How do they break down? Well, here there is an analogy – for me – between the social and the self under siege, in many ways. In many ways, not in a few, and some of the symptoms we see around us that our own lives are breaking down and the lives of our society is a generalised cynicism and scepticism about everything. I don’t know how to characterise this situation, I find no parallel to it in human history. The scepticism and cynicism about everything is so general, and I think it’s partly due to this thing I call banalisation, and it’s partly due to the refusal and the fear of dealing with complexity. Much easier to be a cynic than to deal with complexity. Better to say everything is bullshit than to try to look into enough things to know where you are. Better to say everything is just… silly, or pointless, than to try to look into systems of this kind of complexity and into situations of the kind of complexity and ambiguity that we have to deal with now.”

“However, I must admit that keeping myself to myself has not always been comforting. At times, I seemed to suffer spells of depression and loneliness, longing to become healthy again; of going out and facing a world of injustices, of misery, of widespread indifference.”

“Deep in infatuation I saw all things rosy Oh the thrill, the excitement, the new-found energy, and the bounce in my steps How so easy to make myself believe That I was in love! True love! From where came this jealousy? This anger? This bitterness? My loved one is hurting me I told myself repeatedly. Days passed. My negativity grew They need to pay for toying with me I swore Prayers for justice Curses to make them realise what they lost I saw all things black Found solace in quotes about Karma... From where came this calm? This blissful indifference? I don't know. I don't care. All I want to say is: thank you, Time.”

“If you are not interested in your own country’s problems, than what difference remains between you and a cow eating grass in a quiet corner unaware of anything around itself!”

“It's a dangerous game Cherrycoke's playing here. Often he thinks the sheer volume of information pouring in through his fingers will saturate, burn him out...she seems determined to overwhelm him with her history and its pain, and the edge of it, always fresh from the stone, cutting at his hopes, at all their hopes. He does respect her: he knows that very little of this is female theatricals, really. She has turned her face, more than once, to the Outer Radiance and simply seen nothing there. And so each time has taken a little more of the Zero into herself. It comes down to courage, at worst an amount of self-deluding that's vanishingly small: he has to admire it, even if he can't accept her glassy wastes, her appeals to a day not of wrath but of final indifference...”

“Immune to the blandishments of religions, countries, families, and whatever else that—with a smattering of emotive images and strains of maudlin music—can move the average citizen to tears or violence, the pessimist is invisible in both history books and the media. Without belief in gods or ghosts, unmotivated by a comprehensive delusion, he could never plant a bomb, plan a revolution, or shed blood for a cause. Pessimists are indeed lackadaisical as partisans in the human drama.”

“لقد كان الإدراك حقاً سبباً من أسباب الشقاء، إلا أننا لا يمكن أن نتخلى عنه ما إن نكبر، لأن اللامبالاة ستورثنا المزيد من الأذى، أدركتُ حينئذ أنه ما أن نكبر لا يعود في إمكاننا أن نتخلى عن الإدراك ولن نرغب في ذلك أصلاً، لأنه إذا ما حدث ذلك سنوسم بالجنون.”