All Quotes By Tag: Innocence

“Then Deborah stood at the wicket gate, the boundary, and there was a woman with outstretched hand, demanding tickets.”Pass through,” she said when Deborah reached her. “We saw you coming.” The wicket gate became a turnstile. Deborah pushed against it and there was no resistance, she was through. “What is it?” she asked. “Am I really here at last? Is this the bottom of the pool?””It could be,” smiled the woman. “There are so many ways. You just happened to choose this one.”Other people were pressing to come through. They had no faces, they were only shadows. Deborah stood aside to let them by, and in a moment they had gone, all phantoms.”Why only now, tonight?” asked Deborah. “Why not in the afternoon, when I came to the pool?””It’s a trick,” said the woman. “You seize on the moment in time. We were here this afternoon. We’re always here. Our life goes on around you, but nobody knows it. The trick’s easier by night, that’s all.””Am I dreaming, then?” asked Deborah.”No,” said the woman, “this isn’t a dream. And it isn’t death, either. It’s the secret world.”The secret world… It was something Deborah had always known, and now the pattern was complete. The memory of it, and the relief, were so tremendous that something seemed to burst inside her heart.”Of course…” she said, “of course…” and everything that had ever been fell into place. There was no disharmony. The joy was indescribable, and the surge of feeling, like wings about her in the air, lifted her away from the turnstile and the woman, and she had all knowledge. That was it – the invasion of knowledge. (“The Pool”)”

“My world was the size of a crayon box, and it took every colour to draw her”

“Life will break every one of your contracts & still look at you with that innocent glimmer in her eye & ask you to marry her.”

“Sometimes I wish I could go back to being ten years old. Even just for a day. Everything was easier then.”

“Let us never get so jaded by the complexities of life that we forget the sweetness, pureness, innocence of love at first bloom.”

“Nos-tal-gic,’ Akira said, as though it were a word he had been struggling to find. Then he said a word in Japanese, perhaps the Japanese for ‘nostalgic.’ ‘Nos-tal-gic. It is good to be nos-tal-gic. Very important.’‘Really, old fellow?’‘Important. Very important. Nostalgic. When we nostalgic, we remember. A world better than this world we discover when we grow. We remember and wish good world come back again. So very important. Just now, I had dream. I was boy. Mother, Father, close to me. in our house.’He fell silent and continued to gaze across the rubble.‘Akira,’ I said, sensing that the longer this talk went on, the greater was some danger I did not wish fully to articulate. ‘We should move on. We have much to do.”

“I like living in my head because in there, everyone is kind and innocent. Once you start integrating yourself into the world, you realize that people are nasty, mean creatures. They’re worse than zombies. People try to crush your soul and destroy your happiness, but zombies just want to have a little nibble of your brain.”

“It takes a very long time to become young.”

“The thing about learning how to fight is that— some of us are not born with that desire. They say some are born fighters; but they don’t usually point out that others just aren’t. Some of us are forced by life to take up arms and fight. Many of us are. The art lies in knowing when to wield those arms and when to put them down. I don’t think it’s a matter of pretending to be ideally unharmed by life and untouched by darkness; because that is hypocrisy. Rather, I think it is a matter of being true to your truth and learning when to fight and learning when to be soft. Hopefully, our soft moments in life will largely outweigh, outrank, and outrun our fighting.”

“I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma’am, and everybody else, will now think me wicked.””We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us.”

“Spring and Fall: To a Young ChildMárgarét, are you gríevingOver Goldengrove unleaving?Leáves, líke the things of man, youWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?Ah! ás the heart grows olderIt will come to such sights colderBy and by, nor spare a sighThough worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;And yet you wíll weep and know why.Now no matter, child, the name:Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressedWhat heart heard of, ghost guessed:It ís the blight man was born for,It is Margaret you mourn for.”

“Our true nature is one of innocence and freedom to choose how we live. We need to be brave enough not to give that away. Don’t give up on your right to, and sense of, TRUTH, Justice, and GRACE.”

“We see that in the organic world, to the same degree that reflection gets darker and weaker, grace grows ever more radiant and dominant. But just as two lines intersect on one side of a point, and after passing through infinity, suddenly come together again on the other side; or the image in a concave mirror suddenly reappears before us after drawing away into the infinite distance, so too, does grace return once perception, as it were, has traversed the infinite–such that it simultaneously appears the purest in human bodily structures that are either devoid of consciousness or which possess an infinite consciousness, such as in the jointed manikin or the god.”

“No mi kršćani upućeni smo po središtu našega Creda – ‘mučen pod Poncijem Pilatom’ – u povijest u kojoj je bilo razapinjanja i mučenja, u kojoj se plakalo i tako rijetko ljubilo. I nikakav od povijesti udaljeni mit, nikakav Platonovi idejni Bog, nikakva gnostička soteriologija i nikakav apstraktni govor o povijesnosti naše egzistencije ne mogu nam vratiti onu nedužnost koju smo u toj povijesti izgubili.”

“There is nothing more pure and beautiful than a person who always speaks truthfully with a childlike heart.”