Djuna Barnes Quotes

Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon the remembered earth. He ought to give himself up to a particular landscape in his experience; to look at it from as many angles as he can, to wonder upon it, and dwell upon it.

Why did God give me two ears and one mouth? So that I will hear more and talk less.

Sometimes you have to take a break from being a crazy kid. You can't be doing that all the time. Sometimes you just have to pay respect to your own simple-ness.

I've soaked up so much through dancing, but I also have to be still. I want to be silent and read, to shut up and take time to respect the vision someone put into a book.

A little more moderation would be good. Of course, my life hasn't exactly been one of moderation.

I'm often guilty of overcooking and too much arrangement and throwing too much at it. But I think as I get older, I'm learning better when to be empty and when to be full.

Don't underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the thing you can't hear, and not bothering.

In anything, there has to be that moment of fasting, really, in order to enjoy the feast.

Often silence is the wisest thing for a man to heed.

Not to be lost in idle admiration is the only sure means of making and preserving happiness.

Reading is good, hearing is good, conversation and meditation are good; but then, they are only good at times and occasions, in a certain degree, and must be used and governed with such caution as we eat and drink and refresh ourselves, or they will bring forth in us the fruits of intemperance.

The difference between me and many young people is, I don't carry music with me. I like to think. I don't use any modern convenience to be talking to other people, because I like my time to think. I go to the garden in the morning, and this time, I'm thinking ideas, I'm not drawing, I'm thinking.

Now I must wait and be still and say nothing I don't know, nothing I haven't lived over and over, and that's everything.

Every spring I hear the thrush singing in the glowing woods he is only passing through. His voice is deep, then he lifts it until it seems to fall from the sky. I am thrilled. I am grateful. Then, by the end of morning, he's gone, nothing but silence out of the tree where he rested for a night. And this I find acceptable. Not enough is a poor life. But too much is, well, too much. Imagine Verdi or Mahler every day, all day. It would exhaust anyone.

I think a lot, but I don't say much.

No writing on the solitary, meditative dimensions of life can say anything that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees.

Let us not overstrain our talents, lest we do nothing gracefully.

If you want one thing too much it’s likely to be a disappointment. The healthy way is to learn to like the everyday things, like soft beds and buttermilk—and feisty gentlemen.

Praying It doesn’t have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.

For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains, And disapproves that care, though wise in show, That with superfluous burden loads the day, And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

Simplicity is an exact mediumbetween too little and too much.

The maxim of Cleobulus, "Mediocrity is best," has been long considered a universal principle, extending through the whole compass of life and nature. The experience of every age seems to have given it new confirmation, and to show that nothing, however specious or alluring, is pursued with propriety or enjoyed with safety beyond certain limits.

Truth is the offspring of silence and meditation.

If you see what is small as it sees itself, and accept what is weak for what strength it has, and use what is dim for the light it gives then all will go well. This is called Acting Naturally.