Huston Smith Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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Free trade is not based on utility but on justice.
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Thoughts crystallize into habit and habit solidifies into circumstances.
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To ignore one's spiritual self is unsettling, to say the least. That's a very profound outlook on it.
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There are some among the so-called elite who are overbearing and arrogant. I want to foster leaders, not elitists.
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I love hearing stories, telling stories, sharing stories. I've shared 37,000 on the Oprah show! Every day I was like the town crier.
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Sex stops when you pull up your pants, Love never lets you go.
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To be a member of the Communist Party is to have a taste of the police state. It is a diluted taste but is bitter and unforgettable.
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Human relations are impossible. When they are real they are uncomfortable, and when they are comfortable they are unreal. It was for the journey into solitude that the human soul was created.
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I watched Arsenal in the Champions League the other week playing some of the best football I've ever seen and yet they couldn't have scored in a brothel with two grand in their pockets!
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A black face, run-down shoes and elbow-out make-up give me a place to hide. The real Bert Williams is crouched deep down inside the coon who sings the songs and tells the stories.
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Some of the more fatuous flag-waving Americans are in danger of forgetting that you can't extract gratitude as you would extract a tooth; that unless friendship is freely given, it means nothing and less than nothing.
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Earth, left silent by the wind of night,Seems shrunken 'neath the gray unmeasured height.
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Is not the action of nature like the stretching of a bow? The high, it pulls down; the low, it lifts up; It takes from what is in excess In order to make good of what is deficient. Who can take what they have in excess and offer it to others?
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There was something that finished chaos, born before Heaven and Earth.
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Yesterday and days before, the sun’s been knocking at my door. But I would always have you near. You said you’d change, you shed a tear. But I’ve been away from you. I’m over you.
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Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
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Books! The chosen depositories of the thoughts, the opinions, and the aspirations of mighty intellects; like wondrous mirrors that have caught and fixed bright images of souls that have passed away; like magic lyres, whose masters have bequeathed them to the world, and which yet, of themselves, ring with unforgotten music, while the hands that touched their chords have crumbled into dust. Books! they are the embodiments and manifestations of departed minds--the living organs through which those who are dead yet speak to us.
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We are a blend of dust and divinity.
