A Quote by Jacob Bronowski

Every animal leaves traces of what it was; man alone leaves traces of what he created. — © Jacob Bronowski
Every animal leaves traces of what it was; man alone leaves traces of what he created.
Man is not the most majestic of the creatures; long before the mammals even, the dinosaurs were far more splendid. But he has what no other animal possesses: a jigsaw of faculties, which alone, over three thousand million years of life, made him creative. Every animal leaves traces of what he was. Man alone leaves traces of what he created.
A poet should leave traces of his passage, not proofs. Traces alone engender dreams.
The skillful traveller leaves no traces of his wheels.
Everything you do leaves traces, doesn't it. The life you've lived is written all over you, for those who can read.
The artist, a traveller on this earth, leaves behind imperishable traces of his being.
Memory is the most transient of all possessions. And when it goes, it leaves as few traces as stars that have disappeared.
The grossly impudent lie always leaves traces behind it, even after it has been nailed down.
Love, like light, is a thing that is enacted better than defined: we know it afterward by the traces it leaves on paper.
How can the mind be so imperfect?" she says with a smile. I look at my hands. Bathed in the moonlight, they seem like statues, proportioned to no purpose. "It may well be imperfect," I say, "but it leaves traces. And we can follow those traces, like footsteps in the snow." "Where do the lead?" "To oneself," I answer. "That's where the mind is. Without the mind, nothing leads anywhere." I look up. The winter moon is brilliant, over the Town, above the Wall. "Not one thing is your fault," I comfort her.
When the hounds of Spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain.
Everything that we encounter leaves traces behind. Everything contributes imperceptibly to our education
I have these obsessions that I do not completely understand, with the deep mark, with the ruptured surface, with scars and traces, traces that human beings are leaving on the earth. It is not a comment on the environment... it is metaphysical.
I made the flames lick the surface of the painting in such a way that is recorded the spontaneous traces of the fire. But what is it that provokes in me this pursuit of the impression of fire? Why must I search for its traces?
Naked a man comes into the world and naked he leaves it, after all is said and done he leaves nothing except the good deeds he leaves behind.
The same wind that uproots trees makes the grass shine. The lordly wind loves the weakness and the lowness of grasses. Never brag of being strong. The axe doesn't worry how thick the branches are. It cuts them to pieces. But not the leaves. It leaves the leaves alone.
Zen, on the other hand, is not so dogmatically sterile, though there are certainly traces and more than traces of this austerity. However, with Zen we have not only the void, but the fertile void. The ink lines in a sumi-e painting show this fertility of the void ever ready to brim over into existence.
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