A Quote by Philip Levine

Now I must wait and be still and say nothing I don't know, nothing I haven't lived over and over, and that's everything. — © Philip Levine
Now I must wait and be still and say nothing I don't know, nothing I haven't lived over and over, and that's everything.
And when I say that is certainly true, that our marriage is over. I know what else she will say: "Then you must save it." And even though I know it's hopeless- there's absolutely nothing left to save-I'm afraid if I tell her that, she'll still persuade me to try.
One of the best rules anybody can learn about investing is to do nothing, absolutely nothing, unless there is something to do... I just wait until there is money lying in the corner, and all I have to do is go over there and pick it up... I wait for a situation that is like the proverbial "shooting fish in a barrel."
I get over bad games right away. Sometimes I've let it go even before I've left the mound. That quick. Why? Because it's over. What can you do about it? Nothing. The only thing you can do is fight if you're still in the game. After that you can do nothing.
If you want to live a long time, don't fool with nothing old but money, nothing big but a bank roll, nothing black but a Cadillac, nothing over twenty-two years, nothing that weighs over 130. If you do, you're in trouble. 'Cause when you're getting old and your cells gettin' low, you'll need a Delco battery to boost ya.
I asked myself what Palestinians would do if Israel disappeared-if everything not only went back to the way it was before 1948 but if all the Jewish people abandoned the Holy Land and were scattered again. And for the first time, I knew the answer. We would still fight. Over nothing. Over a girl without a head scarf. Over who was toughest and most important. Over who would make the rules and who would get the best seat.
All still when summer is over stand shocks in the field, nothing left to whisper, not even good-bye, to the wind. After summer was over we knew winter would come: we knew silence would wait, tall, patient calm.
Nothing has a more sinister effect on art than the artist's desire to prove that he's good. The terrible temptation of idealism! You must achieve mastery over your idealism, over your virtue as well as over your vice, aesthetic mastery over everything that drives you to write in the first place - your outrage, your politics, your grief, your love!
Where to start is the problem, because nothing begins when it begins and nothing's over when it's over, and everything needs a preface: a preface, a postscript, a chart of simultaneous events.
There's nothing I hate more than nothing. Nothing keeps me up at night. I toss and turn over nothing. Nothing could cause a great big fight.
In dreams you can have the feeling that you've had this dream before, that you have this dream over and over again, and you know that it's really nothing that simple. You know that there's a whole underground system that you call 'dreams,' having nothing better to call them, and that this system is not like roads or tunnels but more like a live body network, all coiling and stretching, unpredictable but finally familiar - where you are now, where you've always been.
Then he read the words of the scroll slowly, first in Japanese and then carefully translated into English: 'There is really nothing you must be. And there is nothing you must do. There is really nothing you must have. And there is nothing you must know. There is really nothing you must become. However. It helps to understand that fire burns, and when it rains, the earth gets wet. . . .' 'Whatever, there are consequences. Nobody is exempt,' said the master.
People say, 'I'm going to sleep now,' as if it were nothing. But it's really a bizarre activity. 'For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I'm going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life.
You are also the physician who must watch over yourself. But in the course of every illness there are many days in which the physician can do nothing but wait.
The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you.
We have control over the work of our hands, but little over the working of the soul. But yet we must yield to it, for without it we have nothing.
When I was a little kid, I realized that if you say any word over and over fast enough, it loses all meaning. I'd lie awake saying the words over and over to myself--'sugar,' 'mirror,' 'whisper,' 'dark.' 'Sister,'" he said softly. "You're my sister." "It doesn't matter how many times you say it. It'll still be true." "And it doesn't matter what you won't let me say, that'll still be true too.
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