"I feel most real when alone, even most alive when alone. Better to say that the liveliness of companionship and the liveliness of solitude differ, and the latter is never as exhausting as the former."

-- Florida Scott-Maxwell

#Real Quotes #Solitude Quotes #Alive Quotes

“Shhhh...right now, all around you, outside your door, down the street, and in every corner of YOUR world... there's evidence of a conspiracy. ALL THE ELEMENTS are secretly marching to the beat... of YOUR drummer... while casually pretending to be detached and indifferent...YOU ARE THAT POWERFUL.”
“The beatings, the beatings were so normal to me. The abuse was just routine. I didn't wake up the next day and say, 'Dre, why did you hit me?' We never talked about it the next day. Never.”
“Thus is the fruit of the Earth taken, its flesh torn. Thus is it given over standing, toward rot. It is the principle of corruption, the death of what is, the birth of what is to be. You are wine.”

Source : Richard Selzer (1996). “Mortal Lessons: Notes on the Art of Surgery”, p.130, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
“Old age diminishes our strength; it takes away our pleasures one after the other; it withers the soul as well as the body; it renders adventure and friendship difficult; and finally it is shadowed by thoughts of death.”
“I read Christopher McDougall's book 'Born to Run.' If running were a religion, this would be its bible. I actually scribbled my favorite passages on my arm to read during the race.”
“By my existence I am nothing more than an empty place, an outline,that is reserved within being in general. Given with it, though, is the duty to fill in this empty place. That is my life.”

Source : Georg Simmel (2015). “The View of Life: Four Metaphysical Essays with Journal Aphorisms”, p.204, University of Chicago Press
“To make sense of this view (design as opposed to accident), one must accept the idea of transcendence: that the Designer exists in a totally different order of reality or being, not restrained within the bounds of the Universe itself.”
“That is just the way with Memory; nothing that she brings to us is complete. She is a willful child; all her toys are broken. I remember tumbling into a huge dust-hole when a very small boy, but I have not the faintest recollection of ever getting out again; and if memory were all we had to trust to, I should be compelled to believe I was there still.”

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