Quotes
Quotes about Sense
But over all things brooding slept The quiet sense of something lost.
Love is the extra effort we make in our dealings with those whom we do not like and once you understand that, you understand all. This idea that love overtakes you is nonsense. This is but a polite manifestation of sex. To love another you have to undertake some fragment of their destiny.
Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.
Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well.
Comedy deflates the sense precisely so that the underlying lubricity and malice may bubble to the surface.
Value of a man depends upon his courage; his veracity depends upon his self-respect and his chastity depends upon his sense of honor.
Mathematics seems to endow one with something like a new sense.
Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.
Maxims are the condensed good sense of nations.
Even as a Surgeon, minding off to cut Some cureless limb, before in use he put His violent Engins on the vicious member, Bringeth his Patient in a senseless slumber, And grief-less then (guided by use and art), To save the whole, sawes off th' infected part. - Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.
As blushing will sometimes make a whore pass for a virtuous woman, so modesty may make a fool seem a man of sense.
The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.
I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.
I'm a high school student and this is from a poem I wrote called Sometimes He Wonders. You may split it into different parts if you'd like - right now I'll put it as Unsorted. And He feels so incredibly weak when he has ferociously quarreled against them since his genuine years and has lost. His hopes for a better understanding dissipate as he grows older, and his mind grows less eager to reach a verdict. Having no sense of direction, he roams here, looking above, asking futile questions, even though the answers may be feared. Good by nature, he has learned his survival skills, which will lead him into the real world, and will someday make him a successful individual. Wishing the pressure did not exist, it is a natural instinct to adapt and not to recluse. He rather is a mindless drone than a lonely Hermit, after all. He has no control over his environment, it is the exact opposite. Molded and shaped by his surroundings, he seeks about for himself and his purpose, while this mold slowly deteriorates organic matter.
In a purely technical sense, each species of higher organism is richer in information than a Caravaggio painting, Bach fugue, or any other great work of art.
As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, a certain sense of beautiful mystery seems to gather and grow. - From a College Window.
Compare the cinema with theatre. Both are dramatic arts. Theatre brings actors before a public and every night during the season they re-enact the same drama. Deep in the nature of theatre is a sense of ritual. The cinema, by contrast, transports its audience individually, singly, out of the theatre towards the unknown.
The chief product of an automated society is a widespread and deepening sense of boredom.
He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. And that was all his patrimony.
He went like one that hath been stunn'd, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
Immodest words admit of no defence; For want of decency is want of sense.
Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?
Modesty may make a fool seem a man of sense.
In its famous paradox, the equation of money and excrement, psychoanalysis becomes the first science to state what common sense and the poets have long known--that the essence of money is in its absolute worthlessness.
