All Quotes By Tag: Truth

“When men have come to the edge of a precipice, it is the lover of life who has the spirit to leap backwards, and only the pessimist who continues to believe in progress.”

“So, the world is fine. We don’t have to save the world—the world is big enough to look after itself. What we have to be concerned about, is whether or not the world we live in, will be capable of sustaining us in it. That’s what we need to think about.”

“News told, rumors heard, truth implied, facts buried.”

“Symbols can be so beautiful, sometimes.”

“I have one major rule: Everybody is right. More specifically, everybody — including me — has some important pieces of truth, and all of those pieces need to be honored, cherished, and included in a more gracious, spacious, and compassionate embrace.”

“An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does the truth become error because nobody will see it.(Young India 1924-1926)”

“Everybody is original, if he tells the truth, if he speaks from himself. But it must be from his *true* self and not from the self he thinks he *should* be. ”

“We modern human beings are looking at life, trying to make some sense of it; observing a ‘reality’ that often seems to be unfolding in a foreign tongue–only we’ve all been issued the wrong librettos. For a text, we’re given the Bible. Or the Talmud or the Koran. We’re given Time magazine, and Reader’s Digest, daily papers, and the six o’clock news; we’re given schoolbooks, sitcoms, and revisionist histories; we’re given psychological counseling, cults, workshops, advertisements, sales pitches, and authoritative pronouncements by pundits, sold-out scientists, political activists, and heads of state. Unfortunately, none of these translations bears more than a faint resemblance to what is transpiring in the true theater of existence, and most of them are dangerously misleading. We’re attempting to comprehend the spiraling intricacies of a magnificently complex tragicomedy with librettos that describe the barrom melodramas or kindergarten skits. And when’s the last time you heard anybody bitch about it to the management?”

“No shame in saying that I felt a loneliness drifting through me. Funny how it was, everyone perched in their own little world with the deep need to talk, each person with their own tale, beginning in some strange middle point, then trying so hard to tell it all, to have it all make sense, logical and final.”

“Words have weight.”

“Because sometimes people who seem goodend up being not as good as you might have hoped.”

“But I do know we’re deficient in some way. We are too involved in materialistic things, and they don’t satisfy us. The loving relationships we have, the universe around us, we take these things for granted.”

“I am powerful in my love for myself. The truth of my being is I love myself exactly as I am. I honor my empowered heart.”

“A man craves ultimate truths. Every mortal mind, I think, is that way. But what is ultimate truth? It’s the end of the road, where there is no more mystery, no more hope. And no more questions to ask, since all the answers have been given. But there is no such place.The Universe is a labyrinth made of labyrinths. Each leads to another. And wherever we cannot go ourselves, we reach with mathematics. Out of mathematics we build wagons to carry us into the nonhuman realms of the world.”

“Neel cuts in: “Where’d you grow up?””Palo Alto,” she says. From there to Stanford to Google: for a girl obsessed with the outer limits of human potential, Kat has stayed pretty close to home. Neel nods knowingly. “The suburban mind cannot comprehend the emergent complexity of a New York sidewalk.””I don’t know about that,” Kat says, narrowing her eyes. “I’m pretty good with complexity.””See, I know what you’re thinking,” Neel says, shaking his head.”You’re thinking it’s just an agent-based simulation, and everybody out here follows a pretty simple set of rules”– Kat is nodding–“and if you can figure out those rules, you can model it. You can simulate the street, then the neighborhood, then the whole city. Right?””Exactly. I mean, sure, I don’t know what the rules are yet, but I could experiment and figure them out, and then it would be trivial–” “Wrong,” Neel says, honking like a game-show buzzer. “You can’t do it. Even if you know the rules– and by the way, there are no rules–but even if there were, you can’t model it. You know why?”My best friend and my girlfriend are sparring over simulations. I can only sit back and listen. Kat frowns. “Why?””You don’t have enough memory.””Oh, come on–“”Nope. You could never hold it all in memory. No computer’s big enough. Not even your what’s-it-called–“”The Big Box.””That’s the one. It’s not big enough. This box–” Neel stretches out his hands, encompasses the sidewalk, the park, the streets beyond–“is bigger.”The snaking crowd surges forward.”