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Questions Quotes

“As long as there have been humans, we have searched for our place in the Cosmos. In the childhood of our species (when our ancestors gazed a little idly at the stars), among the Ionian scientists of ancient Greece, and in our own age, we have been transfixed by this question: Where are we? Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost between two spiral arms in the outskirts of a galaxy which is a member of a sparse cluster of galaxies, tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people. This perspective is a courageous continuation of our penchant for constructing and testing mental models of the skies; the Sun as a red-hot stone, the stars as celestial flame, the Galaxy as the backbone of night. Since Aristarchus, every step in our quest has moved us farther from center stage in the cosmic drama. There has not been much time to assimilate these new findings. The discoveries of Shapley and Hubble were made within the lifetimes of many people still alive today. There are those who secretly deplore these great discoveries, who consider every step a demotion, who in their heart of hearts still pine for a universe whose center, focus and fulcrum is the Earth. But if we are to deal with the Cosmos we must first understand it, even if our hopes for some unearned preferential status are, in the process, contravened. Understanding where we live is an essential precondition for improving the neighborhood. Knowing what other neighborhoods are like also helps. If we long for our planet to be important, there is something we can do about it. We make our world significant by the courage of our questions and by the depth of our answers. We embarked on our cosmic voyage with a question first framed in the childhood of our species and in each generation asked anew with undiminished wonder: What are the stars? Exploration is in our nature. We began as wanderers, and we are wanderers still. We have lingered long enough on the shores of the cosmic ocean. We are ready at last to set sail for the stars.”

“I opened it the way we used to open Hafez, closing our eyes, asking our question and letting our finger rest somewhere at random. It opened to the page in the middle of "Burt Norton,' beginning with the lines "At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor/fleshless./ Neither from not toward; at the still point,there the dance/is.”

“Nobody seems to know which came first; egg or chicken – except of course for agents of the Time Saving Agency – who can find out anything about, well – anything. The only trouble is, they aren’t talking – however, you can take it from me – they know. The answer to these and other puzzles are kept safe and secure behind fire-walls and thick security doors secured with, er – time-locks, where one could possibly find answers to many other troubling questions, and not all of them necessarily relating to chickens.”

“If your parents are getting old and you don't know how to bring up the topic of what to do with all the stuff, I would suggest you pay them a visit, sit down, and ask some of the following questions in a gentle way: "You have many nice things, have you thought about what you want to do with it all later on?" "Do you enjoy having all this stuff?" "Could life be easier and less tiring if we got rid of some of this stuff that you have collected over the years?" "Is there anything we can do together in a slow way so that there won't be too many things to handle later?”

“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.”

“There are innumerable unanswerable questions that plague humankind. It is permissible to accept the unknown and unknowable as establishing the outer limits of human possibilities. Unanswerable questions – questions with no provable correct answers – describe the boundaries of human existence. All we know for sure is that everything that is alive will die.”

“We feel that, for the honour of God (and also, though we do not say this, for the sake of our own reputation as spiritual Christians), it is necessary for us to claim that we are, so to speak, already in the signal-box, here and now enjoying the inside information as to the why and wherefore of God’s doings. This comforting pretence becomes part of us: we feel sure that God has enabled us to understand all His ways with us and our circle thus far, and we take if for granted that we shall be able to see at once the reason for anything that may happen to us in the future. And then something very painful and quite inexplicable comes along, and our cheerful illusion of being in God’s secret councils is shattered. Our pride is wounded; we feel that God has slighted us; and unless at this point we repent, and humble ourselves very thoroughly for our former presumption, our whole subsequent spriritual life may be blighted.”

“Can love be eternal? That is the question. Can it be like spring, or a bird in the sky? To young kids, according, all life bound is by it, and things like the sky, or the mountains, or sea. If you ask the old folk, if they still with others talk, even if their hearts hold winter, love is there, they still are with her. Loving is to be. Dreams are all that’s left, agree.”

“What do you want?” The question stunned him. He could say he wanted nothing, that he felt like nothing, that he counted the days until darkness. He could say: Happiness beyond all worlds! A life of peace and love, entire and whole! He could say he wanted everything and nothing all at once. He thought for a moment, as the birds sang in the trees, of how often he felt like this.”

“That thing you thought you'd do You start to think you can't; You always say tomorrow, But you haven't got a plan. Everyone's asking questions, And all you do is dodge. That career that you'd imagined Was only a mirage. The older that you get, The smaller that you feel; You forget what's only in your head, And what is really real. Sometimes people make it; They become who they meant to be. But most of the time, Dreamers only dream.”

“لماذا نصرّ على معرفة خفايا الآخرين؟ لماذا يقتلنا الفضول لسماع نكباتهم، ثمّ لا نستطيع أن نغيّر شيئاً في واقعهم؟ أنفعل أكثر من أن نستمع بحزن يلوح في أعيننا، ووجه تبدو عليه الكآبة، ثمّ بعد لحظات ترانا نضحك ونقهقه في الرّواق الآخر مع آخرين؟”

“Leaders don’t call unhappy followers “ungrateful people”. They see them as “lesson teachers”. They find out why they are unhappy; perhaps it could be as a result of their attitudes. That informs them to change!”

“Should I Today I am in search of a light, that can show me a way bright, Today I am trying to find a reason, For why my life feels like a prison, I am trying to find a way, So that, even just for a day, my seldom happiness could stay, I am trying to find a reason of pain, to know why it hurts and sometimes eyes rain, Today looking back at life and planning for future, I cannot forget those people and miss ventures, Should I stay, wait or move on, Or should I believe that, they moved on, Should i forget that old house and small streets, Or can I forget the faces, lanes and their good deeds, Its been a while and they are changed, Should I forget them or remember them as a tale, I feel so big, heavy and old, Should i take some decisions bold, Life being so rude and cold, But always i found a reason to stay and take hold, I hope for a light, reason and rain, Hope to overcome darkness, treason and pain.”

“I still have one question,' she said. If the story curse had been capable of breathing, it might have held its breath just then. It watched as the not-quite-human-boy raised an offended brow. 'You only have one?' 'No- I actually have far more.' She worried her lips between her white teeth. Something shifted in the not-quite-human's eyes; he looked as if he wanted to take her lip between his teeth as well. 'You can ask me whatever you want, Little Fox.' 'Splendid!' Her mouth turned up into a sweet smile. 'Tell me about the apples.' 'Next question.' 'You said I could ask whatever I wanted.' The not-quite-human-boy's eyes turned teasing, sparking with little flecks of silver. 'I didn't say that I would answer. The girl's mouth fell into a pout. The not-quite-human reached out with one finger and traced her lower lip. 'It doesn't matter,' he said softly. 'I don't need them anymore.”