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Restlessness Quotes

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Restlessness Quotes

“On building homes for fallen angels: When I was small - I sought a home, a place to go and rest my bones. Then founded something, of my own, I lived among the restless stones. If seeking leads you back to evil, what good is that, I asked a weevil. He said a home is what you make, it can't be real, if it is fake... And if you wait instead of seek, will you find love, or something bleak? I know (myself) for I have found, a beauty, hidden – in a sound. Waiting is boring. And so is exploring. A smile is sometimes all it takes. And then your whole world simply breaks.”

“Then my sole relief was to walk along the corridor of the third storey, backwards and forwards, safe in the silence and solitude of the spot, and allow my mind's eye to dwell on whatever bright visions rose before it - and, certainly, they were many and glowing; to let my heart be heaved by the exultant movement, which, while it swelled it in trouble, expanded it with life; and, best of all, to open my inward ear to a tale that was never ended - a tale my imagination created, and narrated continuously; quickened with all of incident, life, fire, feeling, that I desired and had not in my actual existence.”

“Defined simply, narcissism means excessive self-preoccupation; pragmatism means excessive focus on work, achievement, and the practical concerns of life; and restlessness means an excessive greed for experience, an overeating, not in terms of food but in terms of trying to drink in too much of life...And constancy of all three together account for the fact that we are so habitually self-absorbed by heartaches, headaches, and greed for experience that we rarely find the time and space to be in touch with the deeper movements inside of and around us.”

“Sometimes we humans are like brainless chickens, we run around aimlessly and to no avail, we seem to be looking for something that we don't even know what it is, some sort of missing piece, which isn't even there. Why don't most of us realise that life isn't about looking for the missing piece, but actually to learn live with the fact that one might never find it and still have a happy and fulfilled life nonetheless?”

“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”

“Kuna siri ambayo wanaume hawaijui kuhusu wanawake. Wanawake wenye umri wa miaka kumi na nane hadi ishirini na mbili wana mapenzi ya kweli. Ishirini na mbili hadi ishirini na nne wana mawenge. Ishirini na nne hadi ishirini na saba wanajitambua. Ishirini na saba hadi thelathini wana hofu na mashaka mengi. Thelathini hadi thelathini na tano wana msongo wa mawazo. Thelathini na tano hadi arobaini na mbili ndoa nyingi huvunjika. Kwa hiyo, kuwa makini na wanawake na wanaume hasa wanawake na wanaume wa kundi la sita. Wanawake na wanaume hasa wanawake na wanaume wa kundi la sita, wengi wao wana DNA ya wapenzi wao wa zamani.”

“Patience with other people and oneself is a prized quality. I must control fits of restlessness and impulsivity. I need to exhibit imperturbability. I am inpatient because I resist suffering. I vehemently resist the tedium and tragedies that befall humankind. It is useless to seek to escape from the fate of all humanity. I acknowledge that humankind is fated – inexorably, inevitably, irrevocably – by birth to suffer. Every person must endure the arduous toil and grating monotony of working for a living, as well undergo the physical pain and emotional exhaustion that comes from leading a dreary life of industry. The greater a person’s anxiety and resistance to the ordinary troubles in life the greater their personal suffering. I can only ease the mind and live a heightened existence by stoically accepting fate. I aspire to embrace a path of nonresistance and cultivate a state of mental quietude. I will find inner peace only by demonstrating the courage to face the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones. Courage, patience, and fortitude will eliminate an ingrained personal propensity to engage in self-sabotage. When my resistance to the inevitable fate of humanity ceases, I will no longer berate myself for past lapses, avoid fretting over the present, and feeling anxious about the future.”

“Patience is the antidote to the restless poison of the Ego. Without it we all become ego-maniacal bulls in china shops, destroying our future happiness as we blindly rush in where angels fear to tread. In these out-of-control moments, we bulldoze through the best possible outcomes for our lives, only to return to the scene of the crime later to cry over spilt milk.”

“Then she let Bear stride her into the stream, feeling the cold, rushing pressure of the water, and the slither of wet, weed-covered stones under her feet. At first, the cold was pleasant, but after a while it started to bite. Her mind fidgeted as well, thinking of time lost and pursuers behind them. Bear, on the other hand, was patient as a mountain. After a while Makepeace was infected with his alert calm. The pain of the cold water became simply something that was, like the blue of the sky. Her mind-fidgets eased.”

“It might seem to you that living in the woods on a riverbank would remove you from the modern world. But not if the river is navigable, as ours is. On pretty weekends in the summer, this riverbank is the very verge of the modern world. It is a seat in the front row, you might say. On those weekends, the river is disquieted from morning to night by people resting from their work. This resting involves traveling at great speed, first on the road and then on the river. The people are in an emergency to relax. They long for the peace and quiet of the great outdoors. Their eyes are hungry for the scenes of nature. They go very fast in their boats. They stir the river like a spoon in a cup of coffee. They play their radios loud enough to hear above the noise of their motors. They look neither left nor right. They don't slow down for - or maybe even see - an old man in a rowboat raising his lines... I watch and I wonder and I think. I think of the old slavery, and of the way The Economy has now improved upon it. The new slavery has improved upon the old by giving the new slaves the illusion that they are free. The Economy does not take people's freedom by force, which would be against its principles, for it is very humane. It buys their freedom, pays for it, and then persuades its money back again with shoddy goods and the promise of freedom.”

“It incinerates unceasingly, trying smiling in illusion of being alive; it keeps broiling continuously and restlessly sparkles around like a blaze of lighting flame, life is melting down like a candle that is flickering around.”

“Se nu er jeg borte fra byens larm og trængsel og aviser og mennesker, jeg er flygtet fra det altsammen fordi det igjen kaldte på mig fra landet og ensomheten hvor jeg er fra. Du skal se det kommer til å gå godt! Tænker jeg og har atter det bedste håp. Ak jeg har gjort en slik flugt før og er atter vendt tilbake til byen. Og atter flyktet.”

“The bag was a hybrid I had picked up at a store called Suitcase City while I was plotting my comeback. [...] It had a logo on it -- a mountain ridgeline with the words "Suitcase City" printed across it like the Hollywood sign. Above it, skylights swept the horizon, completing the dream image of desire and hope. I think that logo was the real reason I liked the bag. Because I knew Suitcase City wasn't a store. It was a place. It was Los Angeles.”

“You wander hither and yon, to rid yourself of the burden that rests upon you, though it becomes more troublesome by reason of your very restlessness, just as in a ship the cargo when stationary makes no trouble, but when it shifts to this side or that, it causes the vessel to heel more quickly in the direction where it has settles. Anything you do tells against you, and you hurt yourself by your very unrest; for you are shaking up a sick man.”

“Many ways she tried, of escape. She became an assiduous church-goer. But the language meant nothing to her: it seemed false. She hated to hear things expressed, put into words. Whilst the religious feelings were inside her they were passionately moving. In the mouth of the clergyman, they were false, indecent. She tried to read. But again the tedium and the sense of falsity of the spoken word put her off. She went to stay with girl friends. At first she thought it splendid. But then the inner boredom came on, it seemed to her all nothingness. And she felt always belittled, as if never, never could she stretch her length and stride her stride.”

“Maybe this restlessness is serving to keep some part of me alive. Or maybe I move to avoid making - making words, friends, and love. I do spread my heart thinly as I go. Will I ever accept that the most mythic, meaningful life might lie in the ordinary? The kingdom of details and daily reprises. For now, I’m stunned by all things static. Scared by the idea that a home might exist for me somewhere.”