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Why Quotes

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Why Quotes

“Jesus Christ is the source—the only source—of meaning in life. He provides the only satisfactory explanation for why we’re here and where we’re going. Because of this good news, the final heartbeat for the Christian is not the mysterious conclusion to a meaningless existence. It is, rather, the grand beginning to a life that will never end. That same Lord is waiting to embrace and forgive anyone who comes to Him in humility and repentance. He is calling your name, just as He called the name of Pete Maravich. His promise of eternal life offers the only hope for humanity. If you have never met this Jesus, I suggest that you seek spiritual counsel from a Christian leader who can offer guidance. You can also write to me, if that would help. Thanks for reading along with me. I hope to meet you someday. If our paths don’t cross this side of heaven, I’ll be looking for you in that eternal city. By all means, Be there!”

“The reason a lot of women can't move on from a relationship or people they love is because they need to know why. Why did this happen? Why did you do this? Why don't you care? Why did you hurt me? Why do you believe this about me? Why did you send me mixed signals? Why are these other people in your life acting like you care? Men have it all wrong. Insecurity is not why a lot of women don't let go. Women have a difficult time letting go because men don't communicate why at the level that women require. They don't back up their words with actions that are not confusing or could be misinterrupted as something else. Until, men learn that their actions and their friends and families reactions can create a questionable doubt about how they feel, they will forever have to deal with the drama they create for themselves.”

“The questions why, and why not, are both the burden and significance of human thought, the banana peel strategically placed in front of the rabbit hole. But why does destruction have such a seductive pull? I think that is the soul’s instinctive knowledge that the biggest advances, epiphanies and paradigm shifts are preceded by a cleansing period of destruction as the old building is demolished to build the new one, the field of weeds torched to sow new seeds. That’s why destruction is so thrilling, because of the subconscious expectation of the mysterious, "what’s next?" I think we should do that, “culturally speaking.” Tear into the flesh of the old-world ideas of religion, politics and philosophy with the sharpened teeth of destruction, drinking in their dying plasma until it bubbles up in our brains and bleeds out our fingertips as blasphemies, at first, before becoming the profound truths of the next step of human evolution. Let us reject the conditioned belief that memorizing the words and ideas of predecessors is attainment of enlightenment, let us sin, let us commit the true original sin, the sin of independent thought which frightens the politicians, the kings, the business tycoons, the priests and preachers as well as the paper gods they created to keep us in line.”

“There is much asked and only so much I think I can or should answer, and so, in this post I would like to give a few thoughts on what seemed to be the overwhelming question: “WHY?” And here is the best answer I can give: Because. Because sometimes, life is damned unfair. Because sometimes, we lose people we love and it hurts deeply. Because sometimes, as the writer, you have to put your characters in harm’s way and be willing to go there if it is the right thing for your book, even if it grieves you to do it. Because sometimes there aren’t really answers to our questions except for what we discover, the meaning we assign them over time. Because acceptance is yet another of life’s “here’s a side of hurt” lessons and it is never truly acceptance unless it has cost us something to arrive there. Why, you ask? Because, I answer. Inadequate yet true.”

“Y That perfect letter. The wishbone, fork in the road, empty wineglass. The question we ask over and over. Why? Me with my arms outstretched, feet in first position. The chromosome half of us don't have. Second to last in the alphabet: almost there. Coupled with an L, let's make an adverb. A modest X, legs closed. Y or N? Yes, of course. Upside-down peace sign. Little bird tracks in the sand. Y, a Greet letter, joined the Latin alphabet after the Romans conquered Greece in the first century -- a double agent: consonant and vowel. No one used adverbs before then, and no one was happy.”

“Echo’s breathing hitches when I slide my thumb along a smaller scar. She likes that spot. I’ve memorized it. A centimeter below the crook of her elbow. Her skin is sensitive there, and when I kiss it, Echo normally falls apart and nearly shatters. I gently press my lips behind her ear, and Echo nudges closer to me. “Why, Echo?” “Because.” I nip at her earlobe, and she shivers. “Because why?” Her shoulder moves under my body. A half shrug maybe. “It makes me feel better.” Fuck that. “Why?” A kiss on her neck. A long one. A lingering one. God damn, Echo tastes so good. Her skin is soft and tempting. But I want answers. “Because sometimes I want to blend in.” I raise my head and stare straight into her eyes, spotting the plain honesty. What she doesn’t understand is that she could never blend in. Blazing red hair. Bright emerald eyes. The most beautiful girl in the world. She’d turn heads regardless of a sweater.”

“Why do people kill themselves? I think they do it when they can no longer find a reason to keep going. When nothing in heir lives is good enough to balance out the bad. And they do it when they no longer have the courage to carry on past some recent painful experience. They commit what is, in the end, a desperate, final call for help, that is hopefully heard in time by someone else. And what if it's not heard in time? I ask although I know the answer. Then they die.”

“Why does the writer write? The writer writes to serve — hopelessly he writes in the hope that he might serve — not himself and not others, but that great cold elemental grace which knows us. A writer I very much admire is Don DeLillo. At an awards ceremony for him at the Folger Library several years ago, I said that he was like a great shark moving hidden in our midst, beneath the din and wreck of the moment, at apocalyptic ease in the very elements of our psyche and times that are most troublesome to us, that we most fear. Why do I write? Because I wanna be a great shark too. Another shark. A different shark, in a different part of the ocean. The ocean is vast.”

“It is better to write than not to write. Poetry is subversive because it exposes you, tears you apart. You dare to distrust yourself. You dare to disobey. That's the idea, to disobey everyone. Disobey yourself. I don't know if I like my poems, but I know that if I hadn't written them I'd be dumber, more useless, more individualistic. I publish them because they're alive. I don't know if they're good, but they deserve to live.”

“1/11/2020 X Marks the Spot Sound Tangler Riddle-Puzzle The X: The idea of this puzzle is like trying to say something awkward 10 times, but here each X entry has its own subtle pronunciation, which would limber up any tongue in the X-ese language. Another approach is to write them out in whatever order you want pronunciation as you go. You will find both confusingly challenging. X (chi/ki, now YZ indeed? eks, plural exes): eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h z gzh kh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h z gzh gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh ks/h h z z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh kzh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz gz kzh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ xxxxxxxx8 marks the spot Sound Key: -X (own name; X-ray) not listed -(k)/eks (excite, extra, intellectual) -__ (silent: Sioux Falls, faux) -ks (exit, ox, xion, ction) -gz (exert, exaltation, auxillary, exhaust) -kzh (luxury, Tupuxuara-flying dinosaur) -k/sh (complexion, obnoxious, textual) -h (Don Quixote, Xavier) -z (xylophone, Xerox, Xanadu) -gzh (luxurious, luxuriate) -kh (chi, ki) (Overlapping is subtle) *Zenzizenzizenic8 –“the eighth power of a number.” See the archaic word site The Phrontistery online, a great collection of rare, obsolete and extinct words of all sorts. exit.... dlaurent 2 of 2 end”

“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؟”