Showing posts with label G. K. Chesterton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label G. K. Chesterton. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 6, 2025

merrily, merrily

   






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By itself nothing has existence. 
Everything needs its own absence. 

To be is to be distinguishable, to be here and not there,
to be now and not then, to be thus and not otherwise. 

Like water is shaped by the container, so is everything 
determined by conditions (gunas).


—Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj



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There is at the back of all our lives an abyss of light, more blinding and unfathomable than any abyss of darkness; and it is the abyss of actuality, of existence, of the fact that things truly are, and that we ourselves are incredibly and sometimes almost incredulously real.

It is the fundamental fact of being, as against not being; it is unthinkable, yet we cannot unthink it, though we may sometimes be unthinking about it; unthinking and especially unthanking. For he who has realized this reality knows that it does outweigh, literally to infinity, all lesser regrets or arguments for negation, and that under all our grumblings there is a subconscious substance of gratitude. 

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.


—G. K. Chesterton


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We should not for a moment consider even our best-established knowledge of existence as true. 

It is awareness only of the colors that our own vision paints on the film of one bubble in one strand of foam on the ocean of being.


—Olaf Stapledon (1886 - 1950)



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Wednesday, July 3, 2024

listen

 






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Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? 
It is that we have only known the back of the world. 
We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. 

That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. 
That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. 
Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? 
If we could only get round in front—


—G. K. Chesterton, 1908
The Man Who Was Thursday




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