There is fear hanging in the air of the sleeping halls, and the air of the streets. Fear walks through the city, fear without name, without shape. All men feel it and none dare speak.
Did I feel a physical desire for him? I did. Was I moved by a passion of my body? I was. Have I experienced the most violent form of sensual pleasure? I have.
If the rest of them can survive only by destroying us, then why should we wish them to survive? . . . Nothing can make it moral to destroy the best. One can't be punished for being good. One can't be penalized for ability.
Only the man who extols the purity of love devoid of desire, is capable of the depravity of a desire devoid of love.
There are no contradictions. If you find one, check your premises.
You have no choice about your capacity to feel that something is good for you or evil, but what you will consider good or evil, what will give you joy or pain, what you will love or hate, desire or fear, depends on your standard of value.
Don't fool yourself, my dear. You're much worse than a bitch. You're a saint. Which shows why saints are dangerous and undesirable.
I love you so much that nothing can matter to me - not even you...Only my love- not your answer. Not even your indifference
Never ask people. Not about your work. Don't you know what you want? How can you stand it, not to know?
There's nothing as significant as a human face. Nor as eloquent. We can never really know another person, except by our first glance at him. Because, in that glance, we know everything. Even thought we're not always wise enough to unravel the knowledge.
We are one in all and all in one. There are no men but only the great WE, One, indivisible and forever.
Happiness is a state of non-contradictory joy--a joy without penalty or guilt, a joy that does not clash with any of your values and does not work for your own destruction, not the joy of escaping from your mind, but of using your mind's fullest power, not the joy of faking reality, but of achieving values that are real, not the joy of a drunkard, but of a producer.
If you don't know, the thing to do is not to get scared, but to learn.
People, he thought, were as hungry for a sight of joy as he had always been--for a moment's relief from that gray load of suffering which seemed so inexplicable and unnecessary. He had never been able to understand why men should be unhappy.
There are no evil thoughts except one; the refusal to think.
You know, I think that only if one feels immensely important can one feel truly light.
Don't think. Believe. Trust your heart, not your brain. Don't think. Feel. Believe.
I love you, Dominique. As selfishly as the fact that I exist. As selfishly as my lungs breathe air. I breathe for my own necessity, for the fuel of my body, for my survival. I've given you, not my sacrifice or my pity, but my ego and my naked need. This is the only way I can want you to love me.
Not selfishness, but precisely the absence of a self. Look at them. The man who cheats and lies, but preserves a respectable front. He knows himself to be dishonest, but others think he's honest and he derives his self-respect from that, second-hand. The man who takes credit for an achievement which is not his own. He knows himself to be mediocre, but he's great in the eyes of others.
They have to take a chance, everything they do is taking a chance, but they feel so much safer when they take it on something they know to be ugly, vain and stupid.
And questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us seek we know not what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It whispers to us that there are great things on this earth of ours, and that we can know them if we try, and that we must know them. We ask, why must we know, but it has no answer to give us. We must know that we may know.
We shall sleep on moss for many nights, till the beasts of the body come to tear our body. We have no bed now, save the moss,and no future, save the beasts.
He despised causeless affection, just as he despised unearned wealth. They professed to love him for some unknown reason and they ignored all the things for which he could wish to be loved.
In this world, either you're virtuous or you enjoy yourself. Not both, lady, not both.
Power-lust is a weed that grows only in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind.
There is no necessity for pain-why, then, is the worst pain reserved for those who will not accept its necessity?
You still love me - even if there's one expression of it that you will always feel and want, but will not give me no longer. I'm still what I was, and you'll always see it, and you'll always grant me the same response, even if there's a greater one that you grant another man. No matter what you feel for him, it will not change what you feel for me, and it won't treason to either, because it comes from the same root, it's the same payment in answer to the same values.
Every form of happiness is private. Our greatest moments are personal, self-motivated, not to be touched"."
I regret nothing. There have been things I missed, but I ask no questions, because I have loved it, such as it has been, even the moments of emptiness, even the unanswered-and that I loved it, that is the unanswered in my life.
One loses everything when one loses one's sense of humor.
More Ayn Rand Quotations (Based on Topics)
Man - Mind - Life - Money & Wealth - Morality - World - Reality - Good & Evil - Love - Value - Honesty & Integrity - Success - Thought & Thinking - Sense & Perception - Purposes - Vice & Virtue - Reasoning - Efforts - Happiness - View All Ayn Rand Quotations
More Ayn Rand Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Atlas Shrugged
- The Fountainhead
Pablo Neruda - Dale Carnegie - T. H. White - Mitch Albom - Henry Drummond - Denis Waitley - Bram Stoker - Bill Bryson - Bernardo Bertolucci - Ayn Rand