4fc7e41
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Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don't listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don't listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what's behind the words.
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action
integrity
leadership
inspiration
inspirational-quotes
life-quotes
optimistic
positive-affirmation
positive-life
positive
positive-thinking
optimism
life
inspirational
actions
integrity-quotes
speaking
listen
speak
communication
listening
honest
curiosity
|
Roy T. Bennett |
32ec78d
|
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?
|
|
tyrion-lannister
george-r-r-martin
a-song-of-ice-and-fire
wall
curiosity
|
George R.R. Martin |
cfb758a
|
Around here, however, we don't look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we're curious...and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.
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|
inspirational
curiosity
creativity
|
Walt Disney Company |
0438ec3
|
What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within the span of his little life by him who interests his heart in everything.
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|
inspirational
curiosity
|
Laurence Sterne |
8e03dc2
|
" "Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe. Four be the things I'd been better without: Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt. Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne. Three be the things I shall have till I die: Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye."
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|
laughter
doubt
sorrow
friends
hope
life
love
wisdom
idleness
foes
inventory
contentment
sufficienty
superfluity
unattainable
envy
curiosity
knowledge
values
|
Dorothy Parker |
bfb0b70
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"Curiosity killed the cat," Fesgao remarked, his dark eyes unreadable. Aly rolled her eyes. Why did everyone say that to her? "People always forget the rest of the saying," she complained. "'And satisfaction brought it back."
|
|
fesgao
cat
cats
curiosity
|
Tamora Pierce |
8714df7
|
Enjoy every step you take. If you're curious, there is always something new to be discovered in the backdrop of your daily life.
|
|
inspiration
inspirational-attitude
inspirational-life
inspirational-quotes
inspire
life-and-living
life-quotes
living
optimistic
positive-affirmation
positive-life
inspiring
positive
positive-thinking
life-lessons
optimism
life
inspirational
curiosity
|
Roy T. Bennett |
dc6220b
|
Somehow I can't believe that there are any heights that can't be scaled by a man who knows the secrets of making dreams come true. This special secret, it seems to me, can be summarized in four Cs. They are curiosity, confidence, courage, and constancy, and the greatest of all is confidence. When you believe in a thing, believe in it all the way, implicitly and unquestionable.
|
|
courage
confidence
dreams
inspirational
constancy
curiosity
|
Walt Disney |
92aed4f
|
If curiosity killed the cat, it was satisfaction that brought it back.
|
|
satisfaction
wisdom
curious
curiosity
|
Holly Black |
5c0acfe
|
... what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow.
|
|
education
inspirational
pure-science
curiosity
|
Norton Juster |
a26dd7f
|
I had discovered that learning something, no matter how complex, wasn't hard when I had a reason to want to know it.
|
|
learning
homer-hickam
october-sky
rocket-boys
determination
curiosity
|
Homer Hickam |
e203da9
|
Remember that things are not always as they appear to be... Curiosity creates possibilities and opportunities.
|
|
opportunity
leadership
inspiration
inspirational-quotes
inspire
life-quotes
living
motivation
optimistic
positive-affirmation
positive-life
inspiring
positive
positive-thinking
motivational
optimism
life
inspirational
possibility
leader
leaders
curiosity
creativity
|
Roy T. Bennett |
bc0776d
|
His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest. There was no doubt that curiosity had much to do with it, curiosity and the desire for new experiences; yet it was not a simple but rather a very complex passion.
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|
passion
life
love
curiosity
desire
psychology
|
Oscar Wilde |
e2330fa
|
Free curiosity has greater power to stimulate learning than rigorous coercion. Nevertheless, the free ranging flux of curiosity is channeled by discipline under Your Law.
|
|
education
discipline
curiosity
|
St. Augustine of Hippo |
79313b3
|
"Are you missing the library again?" Seth asked, startling her as he walked into the room. Kendra turned to face her brother. "You caught me," she congratulated him. "I'm reading." "I bet the librarians back home are panicking. Summer vacation, and no Kendra Sorenson to keep them in business. Have they been sending you letters?" "Might not hurt you to pick up a book, just as an experiment." Whatever. I looked up the definition for 'nerd' in the dictionary. Know what it said?" "I bet you'll tell me." " 'If you're reading this, you are one.' " You're a riot." Kendra turned back to the journal, flipping to a random page. Seth took a seat on his bed across from her. "Kendra, seriously, I can sort of see reading a cool book for fun, but dusty old journals? Really? Has anybody told you there are magical creatures out there?" He pointed out the window. "Has anybody told you some of those creatures can eat you?" Kendra responded. "I'm not reading these just for fun. They have good info." "like what? Patton and Lena smooching?" Kendra rolled her eyes. "I'm not telling. You'll end up in a tar pit." "There's a tar pit?" he said, perking up. "Where?"
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|
library
reading
nerd
curiosity
|
Brandon Mull |
795012c
|
These are the four that are never content: that have never been filled since the dew began- Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the kite, and the hands of the ape, and the eyes of Man.
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|
greed
crocodile
kite
curiosity
|
Rudyard Kipling |
a3263ca
|
A monk should surely love his books with humility, wishing their good and not the glory of his own curiosity; but what the temptation of adultery is for laymen and the yearning for riches is for secular ecclesiastics, the seduction of knowledge is for monks.
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|
seduction
curiosity
knowledge
vice
|
Umberto Eco |
67acf1e
|
I tried to explain again. 'Perhaps it would have been easier if I said that not being able to find something is like suddenly not remembering the words to your favourite song that you knew off by heart. It's like suddenly forgetting the name of someone you know really well and see every day, or the name of a group who sang a famous song. It's something so frustrating that it plays on your mind over and over again because you know there's an answer but no one can tell you it. It niggles and niggles at me and I can't rest until I know the answer.' 'I Understand,' he said softly.
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|
curiosity
|
Cecelia Aherna Ahern |
28b7029
|
In a way, her strangeness, her naivete, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of idle imagination. Had she paints, or clay, or knew the discipline of the dance, or strings; had she anything to engage her tremendous curiosity and her gift for metaphor, she might have exchanged the restlessness and preoccupation with whim for an activity that provided her with all she yearned for. And like any artist with no art from, she became dangerous.
|
|
boredom-to-brilliance
recklessness
idleness
curiosity
|
Toni Morrison |
c654565
|
Curiosity takes ignorance seriously, and is confident enough to admit when it does not know. It is aware of not knowing, and it sets out to do something about it
|
|
questioning
ignorance
curiosity
knowledge
|
Alain de Botton |
7b71a01
|
As the story grew, it put down roots into the past and threw out unexpected branches .
|
|
writing
curiosity
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
8655986
|
Father had stretched out his long legs and was tilting back in his chair. Mother sat with her knees crossed, in blue slacks, smoking a Chesterfield. The dessert dishes were still on the table. My sisters were nowhere in evidence. It was a warm evening; the big dining-room windows gave onto blooming rhododendrons. Mother regarded me warmly. She gave me to understand that she was glad I had found what I had been looking for, but that she and father were happy to sit with their coffee, and would not be coming down. She did not say, but I understood at once, that they had their pursuits (coffee?) and I had mine. She did not say, but I began to understand then, that you do what you do out of your private passion for the thing itself. I had essentially been handed my own life. In subsequent years my parents would praise my drawings and poems, and supply me with books, art supplies, and sports equipment, and listen to my troubles and enthusiasms, and supervise my hours, and discuss and inform, but they would not get involved with my detective work, nor hear about my reading, nor inquire about my homework or term papers or exams, nor visit the salamanders I caught, nor listen to me play the piano, nor attend my field hockey games, nor fuss over my insect collection with me, or my poetry collection or stamp collection or rock collection. My days and nights were my own to plan and fill.
|
|
imagination
benign-neglect
parenting
curiosity
childhood
|
Annie Dillard |
a5c72d5
|
I became one of those anonymous Americans who tries to keep his mind sharp and inquisitive while performing all the humiliating rituals of the middle class
|
|
curiosity
consumerism
|
Pat Conroy |
60b729b
|
"I have often noticed that these things, which obsess me, neither bother nor impress other people even slightly. I am horribly apt to approach some innocent at a gathering, and like the ancient mariner, fix him with a wild, glitt'ring eye and say, "Do you know that in the head of the caterpillar of the ordinary goat moth there are two hundred twenty-eight separate muscles?" The poor wretch flees. I am not making chatter; I mean to change his life."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
7cf690c
|
No one is is sure of his premise as the man who knows too little.
|
|
humility
curiosity
|
Barbara W. Tuchman |
3efcb00
|
"Passion can seem intimidatingly out of reach at times - a distant tower of flame, accessible only to geniuses and to those who are specially touched by God. But curiosity is a milder, quieter, more welcoming, and more democratic entity. The stakes of curiosity are also far lower than the stakes of passion. [...] Curiosity only ever asks one simple question: "Is there anything you're interested in?" Anything? Even a tiny bit? No matter how mundane or small? The answer need not set your life on fire, or make you quit your job [...]; it just has to capture your attention for a moment. But in that moment, if you can pause and identify even one tiny speck of interest in something, then curiosity will ask you to turn your head a quarter of an inch and look at the thing a wee bit closer. Do it. It's a clue. It might seem like nothing, but it's a clue. Follow that clue. Trust it. See where curiosity will lead you next."
|
|
find-your-passion
finding-your-passion
follow-your-interests
what-to-do-with-my-life
getting-unstuck
what-to-do-next
stuck-in-a-rut
stuck
curiosity
|
Elizabeth Gilbert |
1b95e2e
|
Yet I am incapable of writing the only kind of novel which interests me: a book powered with an intellectual or moral passion strong enough to create order, to create a new way of looking at life. It is because I am too diffused. I have decided never to write another novel. I have fifty 'subjects' I could write about; and they would be competent enough. If there is one thing we can be sure of, it is that competent and informative novels will continue to pour from the publishing houses. I have only one, and the least important, of the qualities necessary to write at all, and that is curiosity. It is the curiosity of the journalist.
|
|
writing
journalist
curiosity
|
Doris Lessing |
5db31f4
|
Excitement about things became a habit, a part of my personality, and the expectation that I should enjoy new experiences often engendered the enjoyment itself.
|
|
personality
enthusiasm
cheerfulness
curiosity
parenthood
|
Doris Kearns Goodwin |
49a3b27
|
Upon the one thing every writer absolutely must have, and that is intellectual curiosity.
|
|
writing-advice
intellect
curiosity
writers
|
Phillip Athans |
6478149
|
A kind of northing is what I wish to accomplish, a single-minded trek towards that place where any shutter left open to the zenith at night will record the wheeling of all the sky's stars as a pattern of perfect, concentric circles. I seek a reduction, a shedding, a sloughing off. At the seashore you often see a shell, or fragment of a shell, that sharp sands and surf have thinned to a wisp. There is no way you can tell what kind of shell it had been, what creature it had housed; it could have been a whelk or a scallop, a cowrie, limpet, or conch. The animal is long since dissolved, and its blood spread and thinned in the general sea. All you hold in your hand is a cool shred of shell, an inch long, pared so thin that it passes a faint pink light. It is an essence, a smooth condensation of the air, a curve. I long for the North where unimpeded winds would hone me to such a pure slip of bone. But I'll not go northing this year. I'll stalk that floating pole and frigid air by waiting here. I wait on bridges; I wait, struck, on forest paths and meadow's fringes, hilltops and banksides, day in and day out, and I receive a southing as a gift. The North washes down the mountains like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, and pours across the valley; it comes to me. It sweetens the persimmons and numbs the last of the crickets and hornets; it fans the flames of the forest maples, bows the meadow's seeded grasses and pokes it chilling fingers under the leaf litter, thrusting the springtails and the earthworms deeper into the earth. The sun heaves to the south by day, and at night wild Orion emerges looming like the Specter over Dead Man Mountain. Something is already here, and more is coming.
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
fee0a2d
|
Henry had written a novel because there was a hole in him that needed filling, a question that needed answering, a patch of canvas that needed painting--that blend of anxiety, curiosity and joy that is at the origin of art--and he had filled the hole, answered the question, splashed colour on the canvas, all done for himself, because he had to. Then complete strangers told him that his book had filled a hole in them, had answered a question, had brought colour to their lives. The comfort of strangers, be it a smile, a pat on the shoulder or a word of praise, is truly a comfort.
|
|
writing-life
writer
joy
writing
life
inspirational
writers-on-writing
book
painting
strangers
curiosity
creativity
|
Yann Martel |
7672857
|
So many of the properties of matter, especially when in the gaseous form, can be deduced from the hypothesis that their minute parts are in rapid motion, the velocity increasing with the temperature, that the precise nature of this motion becomes a subject of rational curiosity. , , , , , &c., have shewn that the relations between pressure, temperature and density in a perfect gas can be explained by supposing the particles move with uniform velocity in straight lines, striking against the sides of the containing vessel and thus producing pressure. (1860)
|
|
science
august-krönig
bernoulli
clausius
daniel-bernoulli
herapath
james-joule
james-prescott-joule
john-herapath
joule
kronig
rudolf-clausius
rudolf-gottlieb
rudolf-julius-emanuel-clausius
matter
temperature
motion
property
curiosity
physics
|
James Clerk Maxwell |
2dbf88f
|
One of my objectives is learning more than is absolutely necessary.
|
|
curiosity
|
Jules Verne |
7879b53
|
I want to think about trees. Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive us, that outlive the sun, even, but I can't think about them. I live with trees. There are creatures under our feet, creatures that live over our heads, but trees live quite convincingly in the same filament of air we inhabit, and in addition, they extend impressively in both directions, up and down, shearing rock and fanning air, doing their real business just out of reach.
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
trees
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
32246e5
|
I had never been much interested in Pluto, too few facts and too much isolation.
|
|
motivation
integration
openness
curiosity
teaching
|
Robert A. Heinlein |
44fdabc
|
He wanted AFFIRMATION rather than INFORMATION.
|
|
hooping-this
curiosity
|
Barbara W. Tuchman |
627429c
|
Had a person attempted to taste me so soon after we met, I would have been alarmed; but since Athena was an octopus, I was thrilled. Although we couldn't have been more different -- I, a terrestrial vertebrate constrained by joints and bound to air; she, a marine mollusk with not a single bone, who breathed water -- she was clearly as curious about me as I was about her.
|
|
mollusks
octopus
taste
curiosity
|
Sy Montgomery |
9b573e9
|
"The color-patches of vision part, shift, and reform as I move through space in time. The present is the object of vision, and what I see before me at any given second is a full field of color patches scattered just so. The configuration will never be repeated. Living is moving; time is a live creek bearing changing lights. As I move, or as the world moves around me, the fullness of what I see shatters. "Last forever!" Who hasn't prayed that prayer? You were lucky to get it in the first place. The present is a freely given canvas. That it is constantly being ripped apart and washed downstream goes without saying; it is a canvas, nevertheless. But there is more to the present than a series of snapshots. We are not merely sensitized film; we have feelings, a memory for information and an eidetic memory for the imagery of our pasts. Our layered consciousness is a tiered track for an unmatched assortment of concentrically wound reels. Each one plays out for all of life its dazzle and blur of translucent shadow-pictures; each one hums at every moment its own secret melody in its own unique key. We tune in and out. But moments are not lost. Time out of mind is time nevertheless, cumulative, informing the present. From even the deepest slumber you wake with a jolt- older, closer to death, and wiser, grateful for breath. But time is the one thing we have been given, and we have been given to time. Time gives us a whirl. We keep waking from a dream we can't recall, looking around in surprise, and lapsing back, for years on end. All I want to do is stay awake, keep my head up, prop my eyes open, with toothpicks, with trees."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
f1f3c26
|
"In the forty minutes I watched the muskrat, he never saw me, smelled me, or heard me at all. When he was in full view of course I never moved except to breathe. My eyes would move, too, following his, but he never noticed. Only once, when he was feeding from the opposite bank about eight feet away did he suddenly rise upright, all alert- and then he immediately resumed foraging. But he never knew I was there. I never knew I was there, either. For that forty minutes last night I was as purely sensitive and mute as a photographic plate; I received impressions, but I did not print out captions. My own self-awareness had disappeared; it seems now almost as though, had I been wired to electrodes, my EEG would have been flat. I have done this sort of thing so often that I have lost self-consciousness about moving slowly and halting suddenly. And I have often noticed that even a few minutes of this self-forgetfulness is tremendously invigorating. I wonder if we do not waste most of our energy just by spending every waking minute saying hello to ourselves. Martin Buber quotes an old Hasid master who said, "When you walk across the field with your mind pure and holy, then from all the stones, and all growing things, and all animals, the sparks of their souls come out and cling to you, and then they are purified and become a holy fire in you."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
bbd53e1
|
Characters carrying the playwright's disapproval is a un-Shakespearian burden.
|
|
compassion
condemnation
openness
bitterness
conviction
graciousness
curiosity
|
Harold Bloom |
900bb3a
|
And under the cicadas, deeper down that the longest taproot, between and beneath the rounded black rocks and slanting slabs of sandstone in the earth, ground water is creeping. Ground water seeps and slides, across and down, across and down, leaking from here to there, minutely at a rate of a mile a year. What a tug of waters goes on! There are flings and pulls in every direction at every moment. The world is a wild wrestle under the grass; earth shall be moved. What else is going on right this minute while ground water creeps under my feet? The galaxy is careening in a slow, muffled widening. If a million solar systems are born every hour, then surely hundreds burst into being as I shift my weight to the other elbow. The sun's surface is now exploding; other stars implode and vanish, heavy and black, out of sight. Meteorites are arcing to earth invisibly all day long. On the planet, the winds are blowing: the polar easterlies, the westerlies, the northeast and southeast trades. Somewhere, someone under full sail is becalmed, in the horse latitudes, in the doldrums; in the northland, a trapper is maddened, crazed, by the eerie scent of the chinook, the sweater, a wind that can melt two feet of snow in a day. The pampero blows, and the tramontane, and the Boro, sirocco, levanter, mistral. Lick a finger; feel the now. Spring is seeping north, towards me and away from me, at sixteen miles a day. Along estuary banks of tidal rivers all over the world, snails in black clusters like currants are gliding up and down the stems of reed and sedge, migrating every moment with the dip and swing of tides. Behind me, Tinker Mountain is eroding one thousandth of an inch a year. The sharks I saw are roving up and down the coast. If the sharks cease roving, if they still their twist and rest for a moment, they die. They need new water pushed into their gills; they need dance. Somewhere east of me, on another continent, it is sunset, and starlings in breathtaking bands are winding high in the sky to their evening roost. The mantis egg cases are tied to the mock-orange hedge; within each case, within each egg, cells elongate, narrow, and split; cells bubble and curve inward, align, harden or hollow or stretch. And where are you now?
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
b488979
|
"All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam's waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam's curse. "Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee." A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
d90ee72
|
It looked as though the leaves of the autumn forest had taken flight, and were pouring down the valley like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, all the leaves of the hardwoods from here to Hudson's Bay. It was as if the season's colors were draining away like lifeblood, as if the year were molting and shedding. The year was rolling down, and a vital curve had been reached, the tilt that gives way to headlong rush. And when the monarch butterflies had passed and were gone, the skies were vacant, the air poised. The dark night into which the year was plunging was not a sleep but an awakening, a new and necessary austerity, the sparer climate for which I longed. The shed trees were brittle and still, the creek light and cold, and my spirit holding its breath.
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
e10680f
|
"Today is the winter solstice. The planet tilts just so to its star, lists and holds circling in a fixed tension between veering and longing, and spins helpless, exalted, in and out of that fleet blazing touch. Last night Orion vaulted and spread all over the sky, pagan and lunatic, his shoulder and knee on fire, his sword three suns at the ready-for what? I won't see this year again, not again so innocent; and longing wrapped round my throat like a scarf. "For the Heavenly Father desires that we should see," says Ruysbroeck, "and that is why He is ever saying to our inmost spirit one deep unfathomable word and nothing else." But what is the word? Is this mystery or coyness? A cast-iron bell hung from the arch of my rib cage; when I stirred, it rang, or it tolled, a long syllable pulsing ripples up my lungs and down the gritty sap inside my bones, and I couldn't make it out; I felt the voiced vowel like a sigh or a note but I couldn't catch the consonant that shaped it into sense."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
longing
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
f3046ec
|
He wants to see, he wants to know, only to see and know. I'm aware that it is this mentality, this curiosity, which is responsible for the hydrogen bomb and the imminent demise of civilization and that we would all be better off if we were still at the stone-worshipping stage. Though surely it is not this affable inquisitiveness that should be blamed.
|
|
unearthing-suite
margaret-atwood
inquisitiveness
curiosity
|
Margaret Atwood |
12bcd35
|
A popular perception that political news is boring is no minor issue; for when news fails to harness the curiosity and attention of a mass audience through its presentational techniques, a society becomes dangerously unable to grapple with its own dilemmas and therefore to marshal the popular will to change and improve itself.
|
|
politics
change
disengagement
improvement
news
curiosity
|
Alain de Botton |
083d8ac
|
Lewis created a new kind of marriage between theological reflection and poetic imagination.
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|
motivation
curiosity
|
Alister E. McGrath |
0829536
|
"Xerxes, I read, 'halted his unwieldy army for days that he might contemplate to his satisfaction' the beauty of a single sycamore. You are Xerxes in Persia. Your army spreads on a vast and arid peneplain...you call to you all your sad captains, and give the order to halt. You have seen the tree with the lights in it, haven't you? You must have. Xerxes buffeted on a plain, ambition drained in a puff. Your men are bewildered...there is nothing to catch the eye in this flatness, nothing but a hollow, hammering sky, a waste of sedge in the lee of windblown rocks, a meager ribbon of scrub willow tracing a slumbering watercourse...and that sycamore. You saw it; you will stand rapt and mute, exalted, remembering or not remembering over a period of days to shade your head with your robe. "He had its form wrought upon a medal of gold to help him remember it the rest of his life." We all ought to have a goldsmith following us around. But it goes without saying, doesn't it, Xerxes, that no gold medal worn around your neck will bring back the glad hour, keep those lights kindled so long as you live, forever present? Pascal saw it; he grabbed pen and paper and scrawled the one word, and wore it sewn in his shirt the rest of his life. I don't know what Pascal saw. I saw a cedar. Xerxes saw a sycamore."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
099ad33
|
Shadow is the blue patch where the light doesn't hit. It is mystery itself, and mystery is the ancients' ultima Thule, the modern explorer's Point of Relative Inaccessibility, that boreal point most distant from all known lands. There the twin oceans of beauty and horror meet. The great glaciers are calving. Ice that sifted to earth as snow in the time of Christ shears from the pack with a roar and crumbles to water. It could be that our instruments have not looked deeply enough. The RNA deep in the mantis's jaw is a beautiful ribbon. Did the crawling Polyphemus moth have in its watery heart one cell, and in that cell one special molecule, and that molecule one hydrogen atom, and round that atom's nucleus one wild, distant electron that split showed a forest, swaying?
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
3b41102
|
"Say you could view a time-lapse film of our planet: what would you see? Transparent images moving through light, "an infinite storm of beauty." The beginning is swaddled in mists, blasted by random blinding flashes. Lava pours and cools; seas boil and flood. Clouds materialize and shift; now you can see the earth's face through only random patches of clarity. The land shudders and splits, like pack ice rent by a widening lead. Mountains burst up, jutting and dull and soften before your eyes, clothed in forests like felt. The ice rolls up, grinding green land under water forever; the ice rolls back. Forests erupt and disappear like fairy rings. The ice rolls up-mountains are mowed into lakes, land rises wet from the sea like a surfacing whale- the ice rolls back. A blue-green streaks the highest ridges, a yellow-green spreads from the south like a wave up a strand. A red dye seems to leak from the north down the ridges and into the valleys, seeping south; a white follows the red, then yellow-green washes north, then red spreads again, then white, over and over, making patterns of color too swift and intricate to follow. Slow the film. You see dust storms, locusts, floods, in dizzying flash frames. Zero in on a well-watered shore and see smoke from fires drifting. Stone cities rise, spread, and then crumble, like patches of alpine blossoms that flourish for a day an inch above the permafrost, that iced earth no root can suck, and wither in a hour. New cities appear, and rivers sift silt onto their rooftops; more cities emerge and spread in lobes like lichen on rock. The great human figures of history, those intricate, spirited tissues that roamed the earth's surface, are a wavering blur whose split second in the light was too brief an exposure to yield any images. The great herds of caribou pour into the valleys and trickle back, and pour, a brown fluid. Slow it down more, come closer still. A dot appears, like a flesh-flake. It swells like a balloon; it moves, circles, slows, and vanishes. This is your life."
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
6744dc1
|
Those people who shoot endless time-lapse films of unfurling roses and tulips have the wrong idea. They should train their cameras instead on the melting of pack ice, the green filling of ponds, the tidal swings...They should film the glaciers of Greenland, some of which creak along at such a fast clip that even the dogs bark at them. They should film the invasion of the southernmost Canadian tundra by the northernmost spruce-fir forest, which is happening right now at the rate of a mile every 10 years. When the last ice sheet receded from the North American continent, the earth rebounded 10 feet. Wouldn't that have been a sight to see?
|
|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
e8657a9
|
"Last year I had a very unusual experience. I was awake, with my eyes closed, when I had a dream. It was a small dream about time. I was dead, I guess, in deep blank space high up above many white stars. My own consciousness had been disclosed to me, and I was happy. Then I saw far below me a long, curved band of color. As I came closer, I saw that it stretched endlessly in either direction, and I understood that I was seeing all the time of the planet where I had lived. It looked like a woman's tweed scarf; the longer I studied any one spot, the more dots of color I saw. There was no end to the deepness and variety of dots. At length I started to look for my time, but, although more and more specks of color and deeper and more intricate textures appeared in the fabric, I couldn't find my time, or any time at all that I recognized as being near my time. I couldn't make out so much as a pyramid. Yet as I looked at the band of time, all the individual people, I understood with special clarity, were living at that very moment with great emotion, in intricate, detail, in their individual times and places, and they were dying and being replaced by ever more people, one by one, like stitches in which wholly worlds of feeling and energy were wrapped in a never-ending cloth. I remembered suddenly the color and texture of our life as we knew it- these things had been utterly forgotten- and I thought as I searched for it on the limitless band, "that was a good time then, a good time to be living." And I began to remember our time. I recalled green fields with carrots growing, one by one, in slender rows. Men and women in bright vests and scarves came and pulled the carrots out of the soil and carried them in baskets to shaded kitchens, where they scrubbed them with yellow brushes under running water. I saw white-faced cattle lowing and wading in creeks. I saw May apples in forests, erupting through leaf-strewn paths. Cells on the root hairs of sycamores split and divided, and apples grew spotted and striped in the fall. Mountains kept their cool caves and squirrels raced home to their nests through sunlight and shade. I remembered the ocean, and I seemed to be in the ocean myself, swimming over orange crabs that looked like coral, or off the deep Atlantic banks where whitefish school. Or again I saw the tops of poplars, and the whole sky brushed with clouds in pallid streaks, under which wild ducks flew with outstretched necks, and called, one by one, and flew on. All these things I saw. Scenes grew in depth and sunlit detail before my eyes, and were replaced by ever more scenes, as I remember the life of my time with increasing feeling. At last I saw the earth as a globe in space, and I recalled the ocean's shape and the form of continents, saying to myself with surprise as I looked at the planet, "yes, that's how it was then, that part there was called France." I was filled with the deep affection of nostalgia- and then I opened my eyes.
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|
fate
seeing
free
light
poem
prayer
nature
poetry
freedom
joy
spirit
wonder
faith
beauty
religion
science
god
philosophy
ring-the-bells
enoughness
exultant
illumination
intricacy
joyfulness
living-in-the-present-moment
religious-diversity
stalking-the-gaps
the-tree-with-the-lights-in-it
gaps
philosopher-s-stone
multiplicity
praying
prayers
hallelujah
life-force
seeking
exploration
praise
joyful
mindfulness
epiphany
tolerance
grace
energy
disbelief
watching
growth
belief
fearless
humility
consciousness
walking
fire
mystery
curiosity
power
soul
poet
creation
|
Annie Dillard |
378488e
|
Everything interested him and everything excited him.
|
|
leadership
education
communication
curiosity
|
Barbara W. Tuchman |
9825f61
|
Reading Encyclopaedia Britannica is like channel surfing on a very highbrow cable system.
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|
curiosity
|
A.J. Jacobs |
3833281
|
"Who knows what adventure we might find here?" Drizzt said excitedly. "Who knows what secrets might be unveiled to us?" "Adventure?" Dunkin asked incredulously, looking to the carnage along the beach, and to the zombies still frozen in the water. "Reward?" he added with a chuckle. "Punishment, more likely, though I have done nothing to harm you, any of you!" "We are here to unveil a mystery," Drizzt said, as though that fact should have piqued the man's curiosity, "To learn and to grow. To live as we discover the secrets of the world about us." --
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|
curiosity
|
R.A. Salvatore |
6a923f4
|
Go ahead, and fear not. You will have a full library at your service.
|
|
reading
learning
confidence
curiosity
|
Doris Kearns Goodwin |
dfe0866
|
The author relates the progress of inoculation against smallpox in America with the interaction between an African slave named Onisimus whose homeland knew how to treat the malady and and leading clergyman Cotton Mather who was curious and open-minded enough to listen to him.
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|
open-mindedness
society
humility
curiosity
|
Robert J. Allison |
be58650
|
I was on the shy side at school (one school report called me 'diffident') and Braefield had added a special timidity, but when I had a natural wonder... I lost all my diffidence, and freely approached others, all my fear forgotten.
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|
science
shyness
curiosity
|
Oliver Sacks |
0c0a897
|
And I know that there are black boys and black girls out there lost in a Bermuda triangle of the mind or stranded in the doldrums of America, some of them treading and some of them drowning, never feeling and never forgetting. The most precious thing I had then is the most precious thing I have now--my own curiosity. That is the thing I knew, even in the classroom, they could not take from me. That is the thing that buoyed me and eventually plucked me from the sea.
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|
struggle
perseverance
resilience
curiosity
frustration
|
Ta-Nehisi Coates |
d6ab5c9
|
"Curiosity. It was Oliver Sacks who first made me reflect on curiosity as a form of compassion. An ingenious and creative neurologist now well-known for his "clinical tales," he begins his work as diagnostician and healer with the implicit question 'What is it like to be you?"
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|
empathy
marilyn-chandler-mcentyre
healing
conversation
curiosity
|
Marilyn Chandler McEntyre |
04713e1
|
Be like Sindbad. Venture forth! Embosom the waves, let your shoes be sucked from your feet and your very trousers enticed by the frothing deep. The ambiguous sea awaits, I told them, marry it! There's nothing out there, they said. Wrong, I said, absolutely wrong. There are waltzes, sword canes, and sea wrack dazzling to the eyes.
|
|
courage
living
life
carpe-diem
teachings
cynicism
teenagers
curiosity
teaching
|
Donald Barthelme |
42550eb
|
"(Theodore) Roosevelt confessed early fascination with "girls'stories" such as Little Man and Little Women and An Old-Fashioned Girl." --
|
|
children-s-stories
curiosity
|
Doris Kearns Goodwin |
a22222a
|
The love of humanity does not prevent us from being good journalists.
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|
depravity
skepticism
curiosity
|
Barbara W. Tuchman |