A Quote by Jason Mraz

You're an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea. — © Jason Mraz
You're an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea.
Even if I say, Everyone in the village died of diarrhea, I still laugh a little after diarrhea.
All our science and philosophy form only an island of knowledge surrounded by an ocean of mystery. The larger the island grows, the longer the shoreline where the known meets the unknown.
James loved Rhode Island, ... He loved the ocean. He would sit in his beach chair for hours and look out at the ocean.
The biggest killers of children around the world are two things: diarrhea and pneumonia. When you think about it, in the United States, kids don't die of diarrhea anymore, but it's a huge problem in the developing world.
If our knowledge is, as I believe, only an island in an infinite sea of ignorance, how can we in our short lifetime find satisfaction in exploring our little island? How can we persuade ourselves to be exhilarated by our meager knowledge and yet not be discouraged by the ocean vistas?
Faced with the immensity of the universe, Job realized that there are limits to man's rationalizing, that we cannot find where the cloud of sorrow starts, that all our boasted knowledge is but an island in the vast ocean of mystery, and as the island of knowledge grows larger, the shore line of mystery becomes longer. At the end of his wits, he surrendered in trust to a Higher Wisdom.
Our knowledge is a little island in a great ocean of nonknowledge.
Don Juan speaks of the island of the tonal as something that's in the middle of the ocean ... the nagual.
The metaphor is so obvious. Easter Island isolated in the Pacific Ocean — once the island got into trouble, there was no way they could get free. There was no other people from whom they could get help. In the same way that we on Planet Earth, if we ruin our own [world], we won't be able to get help.
You cannot stop an Islamist tsunami by building a small island somewhere in the ocean.
There are four types of oceans. Passions are the ocean of sins, the self (nafs) is the ocean of lust, death is the ocean of life, and the grave is the ocean of distress
There are times when the ocean is not the ocean - not blue, not even water, but some violent explosion of energy and danger: ferocity on a scale only gods can summon. It hurls itself at the island, sending spray right over the top of the lighthouse, biting pieces off the cliff. And the sound is a roaring of a beast whose anger knows no limits. Those are the nights the light is needed most.
The ego is an island in the ocean of Hell. You want to get rid of the Hell but you don't want to get rid of that island. Then there is trouble.
The more we know, the better we realize that our knowledge is a little island in the midst of an ocean of ignorance.
A big island of library, in the middle of an ocean, away from all the fools of the world, would this place not be a real paradise?
When the ship is sinking and you're forced to choose sides, the new solution is to jump from island to island to island. You don't have to pick.
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