Totted Up Crossword Quotes & Sayings

When someone makes you happy, it's pretty impossible to cage the excitement. — Adam Silvera

If humanism were right in declaring that man is born to be happy, he would not be born to die. Since his body is doomed to die, his task on earth evidently must be of a more spiritual nature. It cannot unrestrained enjoyment of everyday life. It cannot be the search for the best ways to obtain material goods and then cheerfully get the most out of them. It has to be the fulfillment of a permanent, earnest duty so that one's life journey may become an experience of moral growth, so that one may leave life a better human being than one started it. — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Time flies, whether you're wasting it or not. — Crystal Woods

If we don't control our calendar, our calendar will end up controlling us. — Mark Batterson

There can never be any real freedom on earth as long as people try to exert ownership over the natural resources of the world. — Bryant McGill

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found. — Isaac Watts

Slowly, his eyes came up and he looked through the kitchen window and out through the Cahuenga Pass. The lights of Hollywood glimmered in the cut, a mirror reflection of the stars of all galaxies everywhere. He thought about all that was bad out there. A city with more things wrong than right. A place where the earth could open up beneath you and suck you into the blackness. A city of lost light. His city. It was all of that and, still, always still, a place to begin again. His city. The city of the second chance.
Bosch nodded and bent down. He closed his eyes, put his hands under the water and brought them up to his face. The water was cold and bracing, as he thought any baptism, the start of any second chance, should be. — Michael Connelly

Maybe we're here only to say: house,
bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window
at most, pillar, tower ... but to say them, remember,
oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves
never dreamed of existing so intensely. — Rainer Maria Rilke

There are different worlds, endless worlds, and different beings come from different worlds. In my particular case, I come from the stillness. We call it the dharmakaya, the clear light of reality. I know it quite well. — Frederick Lenz

This was an environment built, not for man, but for man's absence. — J.G. Ballard

It was easy to see how upsetting it would be if women began to love freely where love came to them. An abyss would open in the principal shopping street of every town. — Christina Stead

The earth is not our home. We came from nothing, and to that condition our nostalgia
should turn. Why would anyone care about this dim bulb in the blackness of space? The earth produced us, or at least subsidized our evolution. Is it really entitled to receive a pardon, let alone the sacrifice of human lives, for this original sin - a capital crime in reverse (very much in the same way that reproduction makes one an accessory before the fact to an individual's death)? Someone once said that nature abhors a vacuum. This is precisely why nature should be abhorred. Instead, the nonhuman environment is simultaneously extolled and ravaged by a company of poor players who can no longer act naturally. It is one thing for the flora and fauna to feed and fight and breed in an unthinking continuance of their existence. It is quite another for us to do so in defiance of our own minds, which over and again pose the same question: "What are we still doing in this horrible place? — Thomas Ligotti

Misery loves company. If I'm going to be miserable, it's about damn time I had some company. — A.J. Myers

Of the autistically interior, dreaming, reading, erotic, self-sufficient child in Balthus' painting we have practically no image at all. Balthus' children are not being driven to succeed where their parents failed, or to be popular, adjusted, or a somebody. — Guy Davenport

The sun tells the best joke of a day full of them, setting so spectacularly that you can almost smell the tropical paradise lazing somewhere over this rim of endless, gray socialist towers. Miles of square windows explode orange, red, and purple, like a million TV sets broadcasting the apocalypse. Clouds unspool. The sky drains of birds. — Tod Wodicka