This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
Wei Wu Wei, pen name for Terence James Stannus Gray
"The action of non-action," is the central paradox of Taoism and as a concept is second in importance only to the Tao itself, which incorporates it; Lao Tzu describes the action/non-action of someone who has realized the Tao as wu-wei: Thus, the wise man deals with things through wu-wei and teaches through no-words. The ten thousand things flourish without interruption. They grow by themselves, and no one possesses them.
Democracy | Existence | Freedom | Need | Objectives | World | Happiness |
Wayne Dyer, fully Wayne Walter Dyer
There is no way to prosperity, prosperity is the way.
Sometimes I knew in all my mind and heart why I had done what I had done, and I welcomed the sacrifice. But there were times too when I lived in a desert and felt no joy and saw no hope and could not remember my old feelings. Then I lived by faith alone, faith without hope.
W. H. Auden, fully Wystan Hugh Auden
Cancer is a curious thing... Nobody knows what the cause is, though some pretend they do; it's like some hidden assassin, waiting to strike at you. Childless women get it, and men when they retire.
Body | Death | Man | Memory | Mind | Mourning | Silence | Words | Happiness |
W. H. Auden, fully Wystan Hugh Auden
No good opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible.
W. E. H. Lecky, fully William Edward Hartpole Lecky
One of the most important lessons that experience teaches is that, on the whole, success depends more upon character than upon either intellect or fortune.
Aims | Attainment | Childhood | Happy | Leisure | Life | Life | Little | Pleasure | Purpose | Purpose | Right | Rule | Will | Work | Happiness |
Vladimir Nabokov, fully Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov
Theoretically there is no absolute proof that one's awakening in the morning (the finding oneself again in the saddle of one's personality) is not really a quite unprecedented event, a perfectly original birth.
Experience | Will | Happiness |
Vladimir Nabokov, fully Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov
Dear Felix, I have found some work for you. First of all we must have an eye-to-eye monologue and get things settled.
Altercation | Happiness | Old |
Vladimir Nabokov, fully Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov
The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to me not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as we'll disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong site of the road.
Voltaire, pen name of François-Marie Arouet NULL
Despite the enormous quantity of books, how few people read! And if one reads profitably, one would realize how much stupid stuff the vulgar herd is content to swallow every day.
Vladimir Nabokov, fully Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov
Vivian Bloodmark, a philosophical friend of mine, in later years, used to say that while the scientist sees everything that happens in one point in space, the poet sees everything that happens in one point in time. Lost in thought, he taps his knee with his wandlike pencil, and at the same instant a car (New York license plate) passes along the road, a child bangs the screen door of a neighbouring porch, an old man yawns in a misty Turkestan orchard, a granule of cinder-grey sand is rolled by the wind on Venus, a Docteur Jacques Hirsch in Grenoble puts on his reading glasses, and trillions of other such trifles occur - all forming an instantaneous and transparent organism of events, of which the poet (sitting in a lawn chair in Ithaca, N.Y.) is the nucleus.
Voltaire, pen name of François-Marie Arouet NULL
Men will always be mad, and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all.
Viewing the world as a large pieced-together collection of fragments, some of which are labeled as friend and others as foe, begins internally. We map out our internal territories with the same positive or negative designations as we do external territories, and wars go on there as they do in the world. Internally, we are divided against ourselves; the emotions want one thing, the intellect another, the impulses of the body yet another, and a conflict takes place which is no different in quality, although it is in scale, from that of the world wars. If we are not related to ourselves in wholeness, is it any surprise that we cannot perceive the wholeness of the world? If we believe ourselves each to be a patched-together, unmatched assortment of desirable and undesirable features, motives at odds with each other, undigested beliefs and prejudices, fears, and insecurities, will we not project all this on the world?
Care | Individual | Meditation | Problems | Responsibility | Will | Happiness |
Virginia Woolf, nee Stephen, fully Adeline Virginia Woolf
Dearest, I want to tell you that you have given me complete happiness. No one could have done more than you have done. Please believe that. But I know that I shall never get over this: and I am wasting your life. It is this madness. Nothing anyone says can persuade me. You can work, and you will be much better without me. You see I can't write this even, which shows I am right. All I want to say is that until this disease came on we were perfectly happy. It was all due to you. No one could have been so good as you have been, from the very first day till now. Everyone knows that. V.
Virginia Woolf, nee Stephen, fully Adeline Virginia Woolf
But then anyone who's worth anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, and with extravagant enthusiasm.
Virginia Woolf, nee Stephen, fully Adeline Virginia Woolf
No, I don’t like work. I had rather laze about and think of all the fine things that can be done. I don’t like work – no man does – but I like what is in the work, - the chance to find yourself. Your own reality – for yourself, not for others – what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.
Desire | Man | Nothing | Passion | Rage | Sense | Happiness |