Every man's memory is his private literature.
In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement.
The trouble with fiction," said John Rivers, "is that it makes too much sense. Reality never makes sense.
If human beings were shown what they're really like, they'd either kill one another as vermin, or hang themselves.
When truth is nothing but truth, it's unnatural, it's an abstraction that resembles nothing in the real world.
The Humanity of men and women is inversely proportional to their Numbers. A Crowd is no more human than an Avalanche or a Whirlwind. A rabble of men and women stands lower in the scale of moral and intellectual being than a herd of Swine or of Jackals.
Industrialization is the systemic exploitation of wasting assets. In all too many cases, the thing we call progress is merely an acceleration in the rate of that exploitation.
Universal education has created an immense class of what I may call the New Stupid, hungering for certainty yet unable to find it in the traditional myths and their rationalizations.
Single-mindedness is all very well in cows or baboons; in an animal claiming to belong to the same species as Shakespeare, it is simply disgraceful.
All gods are homemade, and it is we who pull their strings, and so, give them the power to pull ours.
It’s embarrassing to tell you this, but it seems to come down mostly to just learning to be kinder.
Armaments, universal debt, and planned obsolescence - those are the three pillars of Western prosperity. If war, waste, and moneylenders were abolished, you'd collapse. And while you people are overconsuming the rest of the world sinks more and more deeply into chronic disaster.
One seventh of your life is spent on Monday.
We can only love what we know, and we can never know completely what we do not love. Love is a mode of knowledge
To make this trivial world sublime, take half a gram of phanerothyme.
If only people would realize that moral principles are like measles.... They have to be caught. And only the people who've got them can pass on the contagion.
Most ignorances are vincible, and in the greater number of cases stupidity is what the Buddha pronounced it to be, a sin. For, consciously, or subconsciously, it is with deliberation that we do not know or fail to understand-because incomprehension allows us, with a good conscience, to evade unpleasant obligations and responsibilities, because ignorance is the best excuse for going on doing what one likes, but ought not, to do.
How difficult it is to sound persuasive at the top of one's voice!
Round pegs in square holes tend to have dangerous thoughts about the social system and tend to infect others with their discontents.
All our science is just a cookery book, with an orthodox theory of cooking that nobody's allowed to question, and a list of recipes that mustn't be added to except by special permission from the head cook.
Can you say something about nothing?
So now you can let go, my darling...Let go...Let go of this poor old body. You don't need it anymore. Let it fall away from you. Leave it lying there like a pile of worn-out clothes...Go on, my darling, go on into the Light, into the peace, into the living peace of the Clear Light.
Well... ...That's what you always forget, isn't it? I mean, you forget to pay attention to what's happening. And that's the same as not being here and now.
For at least two thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity, idealism, dogmatism and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religious or political idols
I'm sick. I've eaten civilisation and I'm sick.
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