My Thoughts Are My Truths Quotes

I am not apologetic. I don't define or defend my philosophical thoughts. You have to feel them, think about them, imagine them, and then try to understand them. My thoughts are my truths. They may not be your truth, and that is fine with me. ~ Debasish Mridha

Now my aim is clear: I must show that the house is one of the greatest powers of integration for the thoughts, memories and dreams of mankind. The binding principle in this integration is the daydream. Past, present and future give the house different dynamisms, which often interfere, at times opposing, at others, stimulating one another. In the life of a man, the house thrusts aside contingencies, its councils of continuity are unceasing. Without it, man would be a dispersed being. It maintains him through the storms of the heavens and through those of life. It is body and soul. It is the human being's first world. Before he is "cast into the world," as claimed by certain hasty meta-physics, man is laid in the cradle of the house. And always, in our daydreams, the house is a large cradle. A concrete metaphysics cannot neglect this fact, this simple fact, all the more, since this fact is a value, an important value, to which we return in our daydreaming. Being is already a value. Life begins well, it begins enclosed, protected, all warm in the bosom of the house. ~ Gaston Bachelard

Thoughts of the Brain are experienced by us as arrangements and rearrangements -- change -- in a physical universe; but in fact it is really information and information-processing which we substantialize. We do not merely see its thoughts as objects, but rather as the movement, or, more precisely, the placement of objects: how they become linked to one another. But we cannot read the patterns of arrangement; we cannot extract the information in it -- i.e. it as information, which is what it is. The linking and relinking of objects by the Brain is actually a language, but not a language like ours (since it is addressing itself and not someone or something outside itself). [...] We should be able to hear this information, or rather narrative, as a neutral voice inside us. But something has gone wrong. All creation is a language and nothing but a language, which for some inexplicable reason we can't read outside and can't hear inside. So I say, we have become idiots. Something has happened to our intelligence. My reasoning is this: arrangement of parts of the Brain is a language. We are parts of the Brain; therefore we are language. Why, then, do we not know this? We do not even know what we are, let alone what the outer reality is of which we are parts. The origin of the word "idiot" is the word "private." Each of us has become private, and no longer shares the common thought of the Brain, except at a subliminal level. Thus our real life and purpose are conducted below our thre ~ Philip K. Dick

Hello, Miya."
His smooth tone speaking my name made a warm sensation tingle across the surface of my body.
A hundred questions ran through my head, wanting to be spoken. How do they know who I am? Who are they? What do they want with me? I was a single, working-class associate professor with department store clothes. Surely they didn't think they would get much of a ransom for me. The expression on the man's face held me, and my demanding thoughts.
"We aren't going to harm you."
I smirked at him and glanced at my right arm, feeling its ache. My elbow might be badly bruised, but it wasn't broken. His eyes followed mine and he sighed.
"That was an accident." His tan, sinewy hand touched my wrist then delicately ran down my bones to my elbow. I flinched, but didn't feel any pain. ~ Derendrea

My voice sounds braver, more upbeat, than I feel, and I am glad thoughts are invisible things. ~ Amy K. Sorrells

There are thoughts of freedom and imminent escape. I could throw away almost everything, she thinks, and begin all over again. Station Eleven will be my constant. ~ Emily St. John Mandel

Without love, I'm more at ease, I'm sure.
The sky is high, the mountain wind is sweeping,
And all my thoughts are innocent and pure. ~ Anna Akhmatova

Cletus Byron Winston, you are being rude." I might have my own less than glowing thoughts about my father, but he was my father.

He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and did a double take, his eyes narrowing on me. "First of all, how do you know my middle name?"

"Your momma used to use it when you were naughty, when you boys would help her shelve books in the library. 'Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!'"

Cletus grinned. Then he chuckled. His eyes lost some of their zealous focus as he pushed away from the tree and strolled closer. "Oh yeah. She did, didn't she?"

"I felt sorry for Billy, though." I scooched to one side as he sat down. "His name always confused everyone, like your momma was trying to talk to Shakespeare's ghost. 'William Shakespeare, would you please stop Beauford from pulling down his pants in front of the girls?'"

Cletus laughed harder, leaning backward and holding his stomach. "I remember that. How old was Beau?"

"He was ten. He was trying to show us his new Tarzan underwear. I don't think he meant any harm."

"He sure did love that underwear." Cletus nodded and he scratched his beard. "I'm going to have to find him some Tarzanunderwear in adult size."

"So you can torture him about it?"

He pretended to be shocked by my accusation. "Certainly not. I don't torture my siblings."

"Yeah, right." I gave him my ~ Penny Reid

So many questions crowd my brain at once, it's like one of the famous Portland fogs has swept up from the ocean and settled there, making it impossible to think normal, functional thoughts. We're sitting on the floor of the living room, which is squashed up right next to the "dining room", and I'm holding Jenny's workbook on my knees, reciting the problems to her, but my mind is on autopilot and my thoughts are a million miles away. Or rather, they're exactly 3.4 miles away, down at the marshy edge of Back Cove. ~ Lauren Oliver

Thinking outside the box' is ridiculous nonsense, since whatever you can do in a 'box' or closed environment is not 'thinking'. If I 'think' about a problem but limit my thoughts to certain dimensions - then i am not thinking at all, because thinking implies that one at least tries to take all relevant factors into consideration, and as there's usually no way to tell which factors are and which are not relevant restricted thought is not 'thinking' and so 'thinking outside the box' is simply a eufemism for 'let's start to think', but the metafor implies a hidden desire to return to conformity immediately. ~ Martijn Benders

The things I carry are my thoughts. That's it. They are the only weight. My thoughts determine whether I am free and light or burdened. ~ Kamal Ravikant

Nothing seems worthwhile. My very thoughts are old. I've thought them all before. What is the use of living after all, Anne? ~ L.M. Montgomery

Nature Boy

I was just a boy when I sat down
To watch the news on TV
I saw some ordinary slaughter
I saw some routine atrocity
My father said, don't look away
You got to be strong, you got to be bold, now
He said, that in the end it is beauty
That is going to save the world, now

And she moves among the sparrows
And she floats upon the breeze
She moves among the flowers
She moves something deep inside of me

I was walking around the flower show like a leper
Coming down with some kind of nervous hysteria
When I saw you standing there, green eyes, black hair
Up against the pink and purple wisteria
You said, hey, nature boy, are you looking at me
With some unrighteous intention?
My knees went weak,
I couldn't speak, I was having thoughts
That were not in my best interests to mention

And she moves among the flowers
And she floats upon the smoke
She moves among the shadows
She moves me with just one little look

You took me back to your place
And dressed me up in a deep sea diver's suit
You played the patriot, you raised the flag
And I stood at full salute
Later on we smoked a pipe that struck me dumb
And made it impossible to speak
As you closed in, in slow motion,
Quoting Sappho, in the original Greek

She moves among the shadows
She floats upon the breeze
She moves among ~ Nick Cave

I write books with words. Numerous words. Words that stomp and stare and crush and collapse and boogie and bang and scream and laugh and manipulate. My books are a storehouse of words that form paragraphs that form chapters that form stories that form thoughts that live on long after you've read the last word. ~ Brenda Sutton Rose

Pantheists are a little vague about what they believe. They say things like 'My god is everything' or 'My god is nature' or 'My god is the universe'. Or 'My god is the deep mystery of everything we don't understand'. The great Albert Einstein used the word 'God' in pretty much this last sense. That's very different from a god who listens to your prayers, reads your innermost thoughts and forgives (or punishes) your sins - all of which the Abrahamic God is supposed to do. Einstein was adamant that he didn't believe in a personal god who does any of those things. ~ Richard Dawkins

I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may be amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through wearing years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may. ~ Bram Stoker

I have no desire for others to take it on themselves to analyze my thoughts. I am without thoughts. I have never, not even once, acted on the basis of any doctrine or philosophy.I am convinced that those people whom the world considers good and respects are all liars and fakes. I do not trust the world. ~ Osamu Dazai

As our appreciation of happiness in relationship increases, we take notice of the things that tend to take us away from this feeling. One major catalyst taking us away is the need to be right. An opinion that is taken too seriously sets up conditions that must be met first before you can be happy. In relationships, this might sound like 'You must agree with or see my point of view in order for me to love and respect you.' In a more positive feeling state, this attitude would seem silly or harmful. We can disagree, even on important issues, and still love one another - when our own thought systems no longer have control over our lives and we see the innocence in our divergent points of view.

The need to be right stems from an unhealthy relationship to your own thoughts. Do you believe your thoughts are representative of reality and need to be defended, or do you realize that realities are seen through different eyes? Your answer to this question will determine, to a large extent, your ability to remain in a positive feeling state.

Everyone I know, who has put positive feeling above being right on their priority list has come to see that differences of opinion will take care of themselves. ~ Richard Carlson

One of these days I'm gonna beat him in the face with the butt of my service revolver until an eyeball pops out. These are the thoughts that keep me happy. ~ John Layman

As I went about my work then as a young woman, and still now when I am old, Grandmam has been often close to me in my thoughts. And again I come to the difficulty of finding words. It is hard to say what it means to be at work and thinking of a person you loved and love still who did that same work before you and who taught you to do it. It is a comfort ever and always, like hearing the rhyme come when you are singing a song. ~ Wendell Berry

My thoughts are so tangled they'll take a mile or more to unravel. ~ Sarah Perry

When I capture my thoughts and compare them to the truth of God's Word, I often find they are false, deceptive, or destructive. ~ Lori Hatcher

You are to my soul what God is to a mother praying for her child at the altar. ~ Malak El Halabi

Countless people live their whole lives without ever knowing this...this unnameable thing that we share. This exclusive and secret club that we are so blessed to be a part of. I suppose that by many people's definition, it would simply be called 'Love'. And yet, this is unlike any other love or feeling or emotion that I have ever felt. Simply calling it 'Love' would be an injustice...it would do a massive disservice to this feeling that seems to envelop me with every breath I take. It's as if wherever I go, it goes; and whichever direction I look, it sees. It moves with me as if we've been doing this dance forever...like we are one being and of one mind. It has to uncanny ability to affect change by just existing; it speaks to me and with me and through me and every time it says my name, it cloaks my entire being with a warm comforting familiar glow...like it's only ever meant to be said that way and no different. It's not just simply love...it's everything. ~ Charles R. Mackriel

I am not myself.
My thoughts are tangled in words that are not my own. ~ Tahereh Mafi

Look, my dear Govinda, this is one of my thoughts, which I have found: wisdom cannot be passed on. Wisdom which a wise man tries to pass on to someone always sounds like foolishness." "Are ~ Hermann Hesse

Over what do I have control? A few very important things. My thoughts, which I can take captive by the power of the Holy Spirit. And if I can control my thoughts, it follows that I can control my attitude - toward my body, my stuff, my relationships, and my circumstances. If my thoughts and attitude are in control, my words will be as well, and my actions. The redeemed obediently submit thought, word, and deed to their heavenly Ruler, trusting uncertainty to him who "works all things according to the counsel of his will" (Eph 1:11). They step away from the throne, acknowledging that they are utterly unqualified to fill ~ Jen Wilkin

Listen, nitwit, what good will it do you to know whether I am "sincere" or "insincere"? What does this have to do with whether or not my thoughts are right? I can utter a soaring truth "insincerely" and say the stupidest thing "sincerely". Learn to judge the thought independently of who says it or how. ~ Witold Gombrowicz

THERE are so many things which are impossible to explain! Why should certain chords in music make me think of the brown and golden tints of autumn foliage? Why should the Mass of Sainte-Cécile send my thoughts wandering among caverns whose walls blaze with ragged masses of virgin silver? What was it in the roar and turmoil of Broadway at six o'clock that flashed before my eyes the picture of a still Breton forest where sunlight filtered through spring foliage, and Sylvia bent, half curiously, half tenderly, over a small, green lizard, murmuring, "To think that this also is a little ward of God? ~ Robert W. Chambers

I gain nothing but pleasure from writing fiction; short stories are foreplay, novellas are heavy petting – but novels are the full monte. Frankly, if I didn't enjoy writing novels I wouldn't do it – the world hardly needs any more and I can think of numerous more useful things someone with my skills could be engaged in. As it is, the immersion in parallel but believable worlds satisfies all my demands for vicarious experience, voyeurism and philosophic calithenics. I even enjoy the mechanics of writing, the dull timpani of the typewriter keys, the making of notes – many notes – and most seducttive of all: the buying of stationery. That the transmogrification of my beautiful thoughts into a grossly imperfect prose is always the end result doesn't faze me: all novels are only a version- there is no Platonic ideal. But I'd go further still: fiction is my way of thinking about and relating to the world; if I don't write I'm not engaged in any praxis, and lose all purchase. ~ Will Self

My thoughts are punctured by the feel of Anna's hand on me. Down there.
Jackpot.
I look down, and she's pulling my mobile from my pocket, holding it out to me.
Damn. Major false alarm.
"That was brave," I tell her. ~ Wendy Higgins

Questioner: How can we know ourselves?

Krishnamurti: You know your face because you have often looked at it reflected in the mirror. Now, there is a mirror in which you can see yourself entirely – not your face, but all that you think, all that you feel, your motives, your appetites, your urges and fears. That mirror is the mirror of relationship: the relationship between you and your parents, between you and your teachers, between you and the river, the trees, the earth, between you and your thoughts. Relationship is a mirror in which you can see yourself, not as you would wish to be, but as you are.
I may wish, when looking in an ordinary mirror, that it would show me to be beautiful, but that does not happen because the mirror reflects my face exactly as it is and I cannot deceive myself. Similarly, I can see myself exactly as I am in the mirror of my relationship with others. I can observe how I talk to people: most politely to those who I think can give me something, and rudely or contemptuously to those who cannot. I am attentive to those I am afraid of. I get up when important people come in, but when the servant enters I pay no attention. So, by observing myself in relationship, I have found out how falsely I respect people, have I not?
And I can also discover myself as I am in my relationship with the trees and the birds, with ideas and books. ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

I hear the chipper voice of the Church magazines chirping in my brain: You're in a relationship with a boy who treats you as his emotional and spiritual equal. You feel a desire to express your affection through physical acts that will bring mutual pleasure. Do you (a) go for it! Sex is a natural gift from God, and a lot of fun so long as you do it safely!; (b) get him to propose! Sex is only fun if you do it in a Church of America-approved union! Plus, babies are so cute!; or (c) seek guidance from your local pastor for your sinful thoughts and ask for tips on expressing your love in a holy, nonphysical way? TRICK QUESTION! The answer is (d) the fact that you even momentarily considered having sex out of wedlock proves that you have no place in God's eternal kingdom, you reprehensible slut. ~ Katie Coyle

Reading has not only changed my life but saved it. the right picked at the right time - especially the one that scares us, threatens to undermine all we have been told, the one that contains forbidden thoughts - these are the books that become Eve's apples. ~ Terry Tempest Williams

Well, now," Mrs. Havisham said, all but purring as she leaned forward, ample cleavage on display. "You've grown up, haven't you? Tell me, Gustavo. What are your thoughts on having an experienced lover?"
"Not many," Gus said. "In fact, none at all. Also? I came out when I was thirteen. You were there. As was the whole town. Pastor Tommy announced it at the Fall Harvest Festival. On stage. Into a microphone. There was apple pie afterward."
"Still?" she said with an exaggerated pout.
"Yes," Gus said, deadpan as he could make it. "Still. Funny how that works."
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me," she said, dragging a pink fingernail down his arm. "My door is always open. Like my body."
"That's not even remotely healthy," Gus said with a sniff.
"Maybe that's why I need your protein," she said with a wink.
"Nope," Gus said. "Nope, nope, nope."
"You sure about that?"
"Maybe you should close that door. And your legs. ~ T.J. Klune

As for the significance of my nihilism…in a word, it is the foundation of my thoughts. The goal of my activities is the destruction of all living things. I feel boundless anger against parental authority, which crushed me under the high-sounding name of parental love, and against state and social authority, which abused me in the name of universal love.
Having observed the social reality that all living things on earth are incessantly engaged in a struggle for survival, that they kill each other to survive, I concluded that if there is an absolute, universal low on earth, it is the reality that the strong eat the weak. This, I believe, is the law and truth of the universe. Now that I have seen the truth about the struggle for survival and the fact that the strong win and the weak lose, I cannot join the ranks of the idealists and adopt an optimistic mode of thinking which dreams of the construction of a society that is without authority and control. As long as all living things do not disappear from the earth, the power relations based on this principle [of the strong crushing the weak] will persist. Because the wielders of power continue to defend their authority in the usual manner and oppress the weak - and because my past existence has been a story of oppression by all sources of authority - I decided to deny the rights of all authority, rebel against them, and stake not only my own life but that of all humanity in this endeavor.
For this reason I planned even ~ Mikiso Hane

Never be sorry." He looks into my eyes. "Not for me. Our world is in chaos, every one of us suffers in some way. My mind," he taps the side of his head, "is where I suffer. Inside my thoughts, there's chaos, insanity, fear. I cannot fight it. I cannot push it away. But inside all that chaos, there's you, shining bright, my own star to light the way and show me the path home. Never be sorry for who you are," he says, more serious than I have ever seen him. "Because who you are is everything to me ~ Kendra Moreno