Spinoza Determinism Quotes & Sayings

I'm a free soul who hates paying attention to things I am not interested in. Consequently, I have rarely been comfortable in the role of 'employee.' — Steven Solomon

I remember things being more clearer, at one time things were more real. — Tom Petty

In the mind there is no absolute or free will. — Baruch Spinoza

We know the way; we got our knowledge of it from thousands of years in the labyrinth. Who else has found it? - The man of today? - "I don't know either the way out or the way in; I am whatever doesn't know either the way out or the way in" - so sighs the man of today ... . This is the sort of modernity that made us ill, - we sickened on lazy peace — Friedrich Nietzsche

9Among the many lessons that merge from the geologic record, perhaps the most sobering is that in life, as in mutual funds, past performance is no guarantee of future results. — Elizabeth Kolbert

As long as you have a window, life is exciting. — Gladys Taber

Any writer must find it difficult to assess her own work honestly and objectively, so I can only say that I hope my books may be considered as well-written. They appear to be popular among all age groups in the nine countries where they have been published. This is probably because the reader can believe in the characters and the plot holds the interest to the end. They tend to cheer rather than depress. — Margaret Maddocks

Your imagination is critical to discovering your dream. — Bil Cornelius

I think most of the time when I'm yelling at my husband, I'm just yelling at myself. — Craig Silvey

Love is friendship set in fire. — Sarina Bowen

I know part of my sorrow is just disguised self-pity, I needed that exchange and I worry how I'll cope without it and whether I can replace it - if only it were as easy as buying a new dog. — William Boyd

The feeling of Sunday is the same everywhere, heavy, melancholy, standing still. Like when they say, As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. — Jean Rhys

He knows it is a city, but he thinks of it as a camel from whose pack hang wineskins and bags of candies fruit, date wine, tobacco leaves, and already he sees himself as the head of a long caravan taking him away from the desert of the sea, toward oases of fresh water in the palm trees' jagged shade, toward palaces of thick, whitewashed walls, tiled courts where girls are dancing barefoot, moving their arms, half-hidden by their veils, half-revealed. — Italo Calvino