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Gray Quotes

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Gray Quotes

“However inadequate our ideas of causal efficacy may be, we are less wide of the mark when we say that our ideas and feelings have it, than the Automatists are when they say they haven't it. As in the night all cats are gray, so in the darkness of metaphysical criticism all causes are obscure. But one has no right to pull the pall over the psychic half of the subject only . . . whilst in the same breath one dogmatizes about material causation as if Hume, Kant, and Lotze had never been born.”

IfsMayIdeasFeelingsNightCausesBornHalfDarknessSubjectsHavensMaterialsCatCriticismMarkBreathsWideGrayObscurePsychicsMetaphysicalInadequateEfficacyCausationHume
Book:The Principles of Psychology
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“My life is routine. I wake up early in the morning. I brush my teeth. I sit on the floor of the cell I do not go to breakfast. I stare at a gray cement wall. I keep my legs crossed my back straight my eyes forward. I take deep breaths in and out, in and out, and I try not to move. I sit for as long as I can I sit until everything hurts I sit until everything stops hurting I sit until I lose myself in the gray wall I sit until my mind becomes as blank as the gray wall. I sit and I stare and I breathe. I sit and I stare. I breathe.”

TryingMindLongI CanEyeMovingLife IsLosesHurtMorningWallWake UpBreathsLegsBreatheTeethCellsStaringBreakfastGrayRoutineBlankBrushesDeep BreathCementUp Early
Book:My Friend Leonard
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“A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile, Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade. Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws, No more sits listening by his den, but steals Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field, And crops its juicy-blossoms.”

LeftHoursSleepSilenceDoorsDogFieldsListeningStonesSafetyStealingGrayShadeBitesReignCropsDwellingSteersSabbathLaborersPawsDensJuicyClovers
Author:William C. Bryant
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“What subsists to-day by violence continues to-morrow by acquiescence and is perpetuated by tradition; till at last the hoary abuse shakes the gray hairs of antiquity at us, and gives it-self out as the wisdom of ages.”

GivingSelfAgeLastsViolenceHairTraditionAbuseShakesGrayAntiquityMorrowGray HairAcquiescence
Book:The prospect of reform in Europe [by E. Everett]. From the North Amer. review
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“Eating, sleeping, cleaning - the years no longer rise up toward heaven, they lie spread out ahead, gray and identical. The battle against dust and dirt is never won. Washing, ironing, sweeping, ferreting out rolls of lint from under wardrobes - all this halting of decay is also the denial of life; for time simultaneously creates and destroys, and only its negative aspect concerns the housekeeper.”

YearsLyingHeavenSleepBattleEatingConcernNegativeAspectSpreadDustDenialGrayDecayDirtCleaningIdenticalWashingWardrobeSweepingHouseworkHousekeepers
Author:Simone de Beauvoir
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“The rich plankton of pop heroes and pop villains on which we Americans are accustomed to feed, the daily media soup of sports figures, ax murderers, politicians, and rock singers, the ever-running river of celebs, heavies, and oddballs that we use to spice up our own relatively humdrum lives has of late become a very watery gruel. Where have all the good guys and bad guys gone? Why does everyone out there look so gray?”

LooksDoeUseRunningGuySportsGoneRichRocksMediaFiguresHeroPoliticianLateRiversPopsSingersGrayVillainSoupMurdererAccustomedBad GuysSpicesGood GuyHumdrumOddballsCelebsPlankton
Book:Talking woman
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“So we and our elaborately evolving computers may meet each other halfway. Someday a human being, named perhaps Fred White, may shoot a robot named Pete Something-or-other, which has come out of a General Electric factory, and to his surprise see it weep and bleed. And the dying robot may shoot back and, to its surprise, see a wisp of gray smoke arise from the electric pump that it supposed was Mr. White's beating heart. It would be rather a great moment of truth for both of them.”

HumansHeartMayMomentsWould BeHuman BeingsWhiteDyingComputerSurpriseAriseSmokeEvolveSomedayGrayFactoriesElectricRobotsHalfwayPumpsGreat MomentsWispsMoment Of TruthGeneral Electric
Book:The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick: Selected Literary and Philosophical Writings
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“June marked the end of spring on California's central coast and the beginning of five months of dormancy that often erupted in fire. Mustard's yellow robes had long since turned red, then brown. Fog and sun mixed to create haze. The land had rusted. The mountains, once blue-hued with young oaks and blooming ceanosis, were tan and gray. I walked across the fallen blossoms of five yucca plants: only the bare poles of their stems remained to mark where their lights had shone the way.”

WayLongEndsLightYoungNatureSunFireFiveLandMonthsMountainSpringRedMarkBluePlantCaliforniaFallenBrownGrayYellowStemCoastFogJuneOaksRobesBloomingHazeMustard
Author:Gretel Ehrlich
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“When children ask you questions about gray hairs, and wrinkles in the face, and sighs that have no words, and smiles too bright to be carved upon the radiant face by the hands of hypocrisy--when they ask you about kneeling at the altar, speaking into the vacant air, and uttering words to an unseen and in an invisible Presence--when they interrogate you about your great psalms, and hymns, and anthem-bursts of thankfulness, what is your reply to these? Do not be ashamed of the history. Keep steadily along the line of fact. Say what happened to you, and magnify God in the hearing of the inquirer.”

ChildrenFactsHandsFacesAsksLinesHappenedAirHairHearingInvisibleHypocrisyAshamedGrayUnseenSighThankfulnessAltarsWrinklesRadiantHymnsPsalmsAnthemVacantKneelingGray HairInquirers
Author:Joseph Parker
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“I would ... go up to the mailbox and sit in the grass, waiting. ... Till it came to me one day there were women doing this with their lives, all over. There were women just waiting and waiting by mailboxes for one letter or another. I imagined me making this journey day after day and year after year, and my hair starting to go gray, and I thought, I was never made to go on like that. ... If there were woman all through life waiting, and women busy and not waiting, I knew which I had to be.”

IfsYearsMadeWaitingJourneyHairGoes OnOne DayLettersBusyStartingGrassGrayMailboxes
Author:Alice Munro
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“A lot of my books deal with very controversial issues that most people often don't want to talk about, issues that, in my country, are more likely to get put under the carpet than get discussed. And when you talk about moral conundrums, about shades of gray, what you're doing is asking the people who want the world to be black and white to realize instead that maybe it's all right if it isn't. I know you'll learn something picking up my books, but my goal as a writer is not to teach you but to make you ask more questions.”

PeopleIfsKnowsWorldWantBookCountryAsksGoalBlackRealizingWhiteDealsMoralTeachIssuesAskingGrayShadeBlack And WhiteCarpetControversialConundrumsShades Of GrayControversial Issues
Author:Steven Tyler
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“Journeys end in lovers' meeting.' ... But the real journey - the journey of adventure itself - is frequently another matter: often gray, often loverless, often demanding from the secret soul of the adventurer spirit and inspiration, lest the blood turn cold in sick dismay, and the brain cloud under its weight of nostalgia.”

RealSoulEndsMatterInspirationSpiritTurnsSecretBrainBloodJourneyAdventureColdLoversSickWeightMeetingsCloudsNostalgiaGrayAdventurerDismayLovers Meeting
Book:Max (EasyRead Comfort Edition)
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“At last, in the gray dawn of Civilization the fire in the Soul dies down. The dwindling powers rise to one more, half-successful, effort of creation, and produce the Classicism that is common to all dying Cultures. The soul thinks once again, and in Romanticism looks back piteously to its childhood; then finally, weary, reluctant, cold, it loses its desire to be, and, as in Imperial Rome, wishes itself out of the overlong daylight and back in the darkness of protomysticism in the womb of the mother in the grave.”

ThinkingLooksSoulLastsMotherDesireDiesCultureWishLosesCommonEffortHalfDarknessSuccessfulFireChildhoodDyingCreationProduceColdCivilizationGravesDawnGrayRomeWearyWombReluctantRomanticismDaylightClassicism
Book:The decline of the West
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“Port Talbot is a steel town, where everything is covered with gray iron ore dust. Even the beach is completely littered with dust, it's just black. The sun was setting, and it was quite beautiful. The contrast was extraordinary, I had this image of a guy sitting there on this dingy beach with a portable radio, tuning in these strange Latin escapist songs like 'Brazil.' The music transported him somehow and made his world less gray.”

WorldMadeBeautifulGuySongBlackSunStrangeSittingTownsExtraordinaryRadioSettingSettingsDustBeachIronLatinCoveredGrayContrastSteelPortBrazilTuningEscapistsIron Ore
Author:Terry Gilliam
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