A Quote by Jackson Browne
Somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go may lie a reason you were alive, but you'll never know.
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The experience of being in between-between the time we leave home and arrive? at our destination; between the time we leave adolescence and arrive at adulthood; between the time we leave doubt and arrive at faith. It is like the time when a trapeze artist lets go the bars and hangs in midair, ready to catch another support: it is a time of danger, of expectation, of uncertainty, of excitement, or extraordinary aliveness.
I remembered this one time that I never told anybody about. The time we were walking. Just the three of us. I was in the middle. I don't remember where we were walking to or where we were walking from. I just remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere
[Ideas] may not arrive exactly on time, it may not be the most convenient thing for you. For me that happens a very small amount, but if for whatever reason it's not arriving at the moment, it may last forever. Thinking about it won't change any of that.
I lived on the Greek side of Cypress, and I think that's also where my interest in politics really started to come alive. It was the first time that I was told I couldn't go somewhere: My grandfather's house is on the Turkish side, but we were not allowed to go there.
Is it more probable that nature should go out of her course, or that a man should tell a lie? We have never seen, in our time, nature go out of her course; but we have good reason to believe that millions of lies have been told in the same time.
Some were getting married; some were getting divorced. People were in different places, but you had enough time on this earth to actually get somewhere, and I think that's the exciting thing about being 36 and in your mid-30s. You've been somewhere, and you're going to go somewhere. It's fun; it's exciting.
It's a lie, you know, to pretend that nothing is important to you. It's hiding. Believe me, I know because I hid for a long time. But now I won't do it anymore. The truth is bioluminescent. I don't lie, and I don't waste time on people who do.
For man, the vast marvel is to be alive. For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. Whatever the unborn may know, they cannot know the beauty, the marvel of being alive in the flesh. The dead may look after the afterwards. But the magnificent here and now of life in the flesh is ours, and ours alone, and ours only for a time.
There's some that came here never believing they were dead. They insisted all the way that they were alive, it was a mistake, someone would have to pay; made no difference. There's others who longed to be dead when they were alive, poor souls; lives full of pain or misery; killed themselves for a chance of a blessed rest, and found that nothing had changed except for the worse, and this time there was no escape; you can't make yourself alive again.
People who make a difference never wait for just the right time. They know that it will never arrive.
Young people are going to go to someone, somewhere. And we had better see that that 'someone' is us when the opportunity is ours, for there will come a time when we will wish they would come, and do we know but that the interruption we now impatiently put off may be the most important thing we could be doing at this particular time?
The only reason you even start a band is so you can hang out with your friends all the time, but somewhere along the line, it just ends up becoming a job. You were doing it because you were like, 'I never want to have to get a job,' then all of a sudden it becomes the biggest job you could ever imagine.
No matter what happened to any individual person, life was going on elsewhere. The first time Kennedy kissed me, it stood to reason that at the same time, other people were splitting up. And the night Kennedy broke my heart, somewhere - maybe right there in my dorm, other people were falling in love.
The only thing he could do to stay alive was not to allow himself the anguish of that memory. He erased it from his mind, although from time to time in the years that were left to him he would feel it revive, with no warning and for no reason, like the sudden pang of an old scar.
My view is that, you know, life unfolds at its own rhythm. You know, I have never lived a life that I thought I could plan out. And I'm just trying to do the best I can every day. I find I have a lot to get done between the time I get up and the time I go to bed.
Somewhere between psychotic and iconic/ Somewhere between I want it and I got it/ Somewhere between I’m sober and I’m lifted/ Somewhere between a mistress and commitment
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