It would be impossible to accept naturalism itself if we really and consistently believed naturalism. For naturalism is a system of thought. But for naturalism all thoughts are mere events with irrational causes.
C.S. Lewis in The Grand Miracle
Submitted by Rebeca Bucur
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The second advantage claimed for naturalism is that it is equivalent to rationality, because it assumes a model of reality in which all events are in principle accessible to scientific investigation.
quote by Phillip E. Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We have fallen into this very mean description of humanity. Naturalism in fiction is too reductive in its definition of human beings.
I am really not of the school of naturalism. I like style, and you can use more style in theater than in film roles. I love to sink my teeth into a part.
quote by Marisa Tomei
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
If modernist naturalism were true, there would be no objective truth outside of science. In that case right and wrong would be a matter of cultural preference, or political power, and the power already available to modernists ideologies would be overwhelming.
quote by Phillip E. Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Naturalism aimed at giving the primitive wishes full play but failed because these wishes are too primitive, too infantile, too inconsistent with themselves to be satisfied even by the greatest license.
quote by John Desmond Bernal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Another important historical factor is the fact that this already very simple religion was further simplified and purified by the early philosophers of ancient China. Our first great philosopher was a founder of naturalism; and our second great philosopher was an agnostic.
Evolutionary naturalism takes the inherent limitations of science and turns them into a devastating philosophical weapon: because science is our only real way of knowing anything, what science cannot know cannot be real.
quote by Phillip E. Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Those Feelings Who Let You In
Those feelings who let you in are going now,
Lighting out in that terrible fog:
The last one I can feel is the one letting me know,
Holding the door open as we wave the others goodbye:
What a foolish thing, ambition,
To want to know the avenues to your
Neck, displayed like a creature
Of the sea naked on the foaming shore
Without its dress of shells:
I liked these words I curled for you,
Because I wanted them to be my tongue
Slipping between your lips when you were not looking:
When you were talking with the other man:
I wanted to surprise you,
And let that me by occupation:
To inhabit your heart as if it were my preservation:
I, a naturalism, and your chest the habitat of my study,
But I was never so good at satire
To make you look a second time at me:
The embolden language of my parents’ rejection,
A child making a mess in his lonely room,
I accomplished that:
I became a fool for you, but look at this.
Here is the conclusion to the thing.
There are still many words to be said,
And people to say them as they wake up for class:
There is a room I am in,
And outside there are trees,
And the sky in its haunted night too cold to follow-
Languages and lovers and roller coasters aplenty,
But none for me-
I graduated and that is that,
And now is the time for my simpler plot:
No more essays, or thoughts of you:
The way you lighted the predawn hours
Where the men were busy selling the fruits
Which would soon travel northwards,
To be bought in the morning-
I loved you, as I told you, but I am still here:
My words should become silent now,
A mute theatre, a holocaust,
A simpler traveler abiding the rules:
And you, the untamed migration
That is lost.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Getting Away With Murder
Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness
I need to calculate
what creates my own madness
and I'm addicted to your punishment
and you're the master
and I am waiting for disaster
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth I am
getting away with murder
it is impossible
to never tell the truth
but the reality is I'm getting away with murder
(Getting away, Getting away, Getting away)
I drink my drink and I don't even want to
I think my thoughts when I don't even need to
I never look back cause I don't even want to
and I don't need to
because I'm getting away with murder
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth
I am getting away with murder
it is impossible
to never tell the truth
but the reality is I'm getting away with murder
(Getting away, Getting away, Getting away, Getting
away, Getting away, Getting away, Getting away,
Getting away, Getting away with murder)
Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness
I need to calculate
what creates my own madness
and I'm addicted to your punishment
and you're the master
and I am craving this disaster
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth
I am getting away with murder
it is impossible
to never tell the truth
but the reality is I'm getting away with murder
(Getting away, Getting away, Getting away)
I feel irrational
So confrontational
To tell the truth
I am getting away with murder
it is impossible
to never tell the truth
but the reality is I'm getting away with murder
song performed by by Papa Roach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lady Of Fayum
Do you know
you are about to die?
Did you know
you were about to die?
Was this naturalistic
painted portrait
upon choice wooden panel
commissioned veritable
painted prior
to encroaching death?
Prestigious portrait
face covering inserted
brilliant colours bright
in far gaze farewell
in height of Roman fashion
in hair styles clothes jewelry
in lifelike rank status realistic
loving verisimilitude memory
attached to cloth
embalming mummy
bandages as funeral
custom dictated.
Noble fee paid portrait
beautifully painted
in encaustic veneer upon
previously prepared
coated receptive surface
contains rich beeswax
mixed with pigments
to retain colour intensity.
Shoulders life beat breast
in pose three-quarter view
head almost fully frontal
slightly tilted far sight left.
No melancholy serene pallor
wrinkleless yet no lip telling
tragedy confessed contempt
in tribute commissioned artist
a youthful time typical death
bitterly felt sorrow not shown
upon contemplated impending
parting agony approaching death.
Bitter fruit to mourn loss saviour
seen is no putrid plaintive flesh.
Admire a long fine chiseled
aristocratic white cosmetic face
framed beauty dark hair taken
up in allure neck display bun.
Face dominated
by large black eyes
dark stencil eyelids
black eyebrows.
Light brush strokes
visible on life neck
highlights on one side
of admire depicted face.
An undeceived mouth
underscores soliloquy dialogue
innocent antique visage
denounces harboured melancholy.
Jewelery adorned fine clothing
chosen mayhap for social status
rendered bold sure brushstrokes
culminates in an enlivened effigy.
Masterpiece impression mesmerizes
one attenuating successful naturalism
attests this painter well these passions
imparted upon a lifeless wooden panel.
Portrait tells no adieu valediction
to those you mannequin leave
who you may yearn for fear for
lovingly cherished throbbed for?
Now framed soul you are stripped
of life animated regenerating passion.
Across an age sands fallen bygone
you reader of these words stare upon...
despair maestro melodrama encapsulated
voyeurs of pathos pain vessel distilled.
Impossible to embrace or smile comfort
locked within a gaze lost in far antiquity.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If...
If ev'ryone believed in adulthood,
We would not behave like impish children.
If ev'ryone believed in something good,
Perhaps our evils would never happen.
If ev'ryone believed in honesty,
Thoughts would not require representation.
If ev'ryone believed in identity,
Each person would not crave affirmation.
If ev'ryone believed in truthfulness,
We would not follow laws of hypocrites.
If ev'ryone believed in wanting less,
Maybe we could learn to want what we get.
If ev'ryone believed in how they feel,
What is imagination would be real.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm not sure there are enough coaches in the system that can take young talent and consistently get them into the top five in the world.
quote by Sebastian Coe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fascist rebelliousness always occurs where fear of the truth turns a revolutionary emotion into illusions. In its pure form, fascism is the sum total of all irrational reactions of the average human character. To the narrow-minded sociologist who lacks the courage to recognize the enormous role played by the irrational in human history, the fascist race theory appears as nothing but an imperialistic interest or even a mere "prejudice." The violence and the ubiquity of these "race prejudices" show their origin from the irrational part of the human character. The race theory is not a creation of fascism. No: fascism is a creation of race hatred and its politically organized expression.
quote by Wilhelm Reich
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Impossible
If they had ever told me how sweet a kiss could be
I would have said impossible, impossible for me
And if they said Id find you beyond the rainbows end
I would have said impossible, impossible, my friend
To dream about what might have been
Is strange enough for me
But now it seems Im living in
A dream too beautiful to be
If they had said a moonbeam could calm a stormy sea
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
song performed by by Nat King Cole, music by Steve Allen, lyrics by Steve Allen (1956)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wisdom
I've been accused of having wisdom.
And I smile and ask...
'When did that happen?
I felt like such a jerk in my past.'
I stumbled and fell,
Got up to fall again.
I wasn't afraid to make mistakes.
Nor did I have thoughts on my mind to win!
I wanted to do those things I was born to do.
I didn't listen much to anyone...
Who believed I was confused.
Since they had no clue of my desires...
I didn't feel there was anything I had to prove.
I've been 'me' all my life.
Who else could I be?
I've had some heartaches,
And suffered tremendously!
I've learned to forgive and let live.
A lesson I'm happy I have finally conceived.
I guess what others 'see' is a tolerance...
That came with a maturity.
I have had long bouts with immaturity no doubt.
And I've been wise enough not to let my flaws upset.
I've accepted who I am...
And eliminated regret.
I am not yet perfect.
Whatever that means.
However...
I am blessed that I am aging.
And still wishing to do my best.
If there is any wisdom attached to that...
Anyone is welcome to share it.
And we will both be amazed...
How a wisdom described as it is today,
Developed from events I thought were awful...
Mind altering and crazy days!
But...
I will accept your assessment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Thinker
How long are my thoughts alive?
Only until they move on.For new ones enter my mind each day
and the old ones are gone.
The simpler the thought,
the longer the stay.
Complex thinking is not for me.
I simply push it away.
I wake up sleepy
with eyes still closed
but my mind comes alive with thought
and then I am exposed
to multiple thoughts that surface again
and I've not even started my day.
Sometimes I wish to be thought-free
but I know that's not my way.
For thinkers are edgy, never complete
until a thought's on their mind.
And so I've learned to accept these things
and let them slowly unwind.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To accept passively an unjust system is to cooperate with that system thereby the oppressed become the oppressor.
A Dream Within A Dream
For my own part,
I have never had a thought
which I could not set down in words
with even more distinctness
than that with which I conceived it.
There is, however,
a class of fancies
of exquisite delicacy
which are not thoughts
and to which as yet I have found it
absolutely impossible to adapt to language.
These fancies arise in the soul
alas, how rarely,
only at epochs of most intense tranquility
when the bodily and mental health
are in perfection,
and at those mere points of time
where the confines of the waking world
blend with the world of dreams.
And so I captured this fance
where all that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Information Overload
Many suffer from,
Information overload.
And nothing can be done,
By information overload.
Too many getting numb,
With information overload.
And not overcoming,
That information overload...
Can be,
Impossible to see achieved.
Simple conversation is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
Eye contact is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
An understanding is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
People sincere is...
Impossible to have it achieved!
Many suffer from,
Information overload.
And nothing can be done,
By information overload.
With many running away...
From wanting purpose.
And many running away...
From honesty!
And many running away...
From keeping focus.
And many running away...
From peace believed,
To wish it could be possible.
With many running away...
From wanting purpose.
And many running away...
From honesty!
And many running away...
From keeping focus.
And many,
Are running away...
From peace believed.
To wish it could be possible.
Eye contact is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
An understanding is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
People sincere is...
Impossible to have it achieved!
Because we're overloaded,
With too much information.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!