The helpful thought for which you look Is written somewhere in a book.
We humans are obsessed with lights. . . Perhaps it is our way of hurling the constellations back at the sky.
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.
I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred, but offer myself humbly as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery, as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace.
It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between.
If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, urea, and electricity, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart ?
For the longest time I didn't realize I was creative - I just thought I was strange.
Who I am on stage is very, very different to who I am in real life.
Modern societies accepted the treasures and the power offered them by science. But they have not accepted - they have scarcely even heard - its profounder message: the defining of a new and unique source of truth, and the demand for a thorough revision of ethical premises, for a complete break with the animist tradition, the definitive abandonment of the 'old covenant', the necessity of forging a new one. Armed with all the powers, enjoying all the riches they owe to science, our societies are still trying to live by and to teach systems of values already blasted at the root by science itself.
The secret of photography is, the camera takes on the character and personality of the handler.
There is a serene and settled majesty to woodland scenery that enters into the soul and delights and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations.