Quote

At Epidaurus, in the stillness, in the great peace that came over me, I heard the heart of the world beat. I know what the cure is: it is to give up, to relinquish, to surrender, so that our little hearts may beat in unison with the great heart of the world.

Henry Miller

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Henry Miller
Age: 88 †
Born: 1891
Born: December 26
Died: 1980
Died: June 7
Essayist
Novelist
Painter
Writer
New York City
New York
Genri Miller
Henri Miller
Phineas Flapdoodle
Give
Cures
Littles
Surrender
May
Beat
Little
Beats
Giving
Hearts
Relinquish
Great
Heard
Unison
Heart
Came
Stillness
World
Peace
Cure

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The vast difference between astrology and other sciences, if I may put it thus, is that astrology deals not with facts but with profundities. The solid ground on which the scientist pretends to rest gives way, in astrology, to imponderables.
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The only law which is really lived up to wholeheartedly and with a vengeance is the law of conformity.
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For a metaphysical treat stop at the Big Sur Inn, which is also a haven for stray cats and dogs. Life along the South Coast is just a bed of roses, with a few thorns and nettles interspersed.
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What I really hoped for, no doubt, was to come upon one of those lives which begin nowhere, which lead us through marshes and salt flats, trickling away, seemingly without plan, purpose or goal, and suddenly emerge, gushing like geysers, and never cease gushing, even in death.
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The city grows like a cancer I must grow like a sun. The city eats deeper and deeper into the red it is an insatiable white louse which must die eventually of inanition. I am going to starve the white louse which is eating me up. I am going to die as a city in order to become again a man. Therefore I close my ears, my eyes, my mouth.
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Man, as man, has never realized himself. The greater part of him, his potential being, has always been submerged. What is history if not the endless story of his repeated failures?
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By choosing to live above the ordinary level we create extraordinary problems for ourselves.
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You have to write a million words before you find your voice as a writer.
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The prisoner is not the one who has commited a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over.
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Keep your libraries, your penal institutions, your insaneasylums... give me beer.You think man needs rule, he needs beer. The world does not need morals, it needs beer... The souls of men have been fed with indigestibles, but the soul could make use of beer.
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Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown.
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Who hates the Jews more than the Jew?
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A man writes to throw off the poison which he has accumulated because of his false way of life. He is trying to recapture his innocence, yet all he succeeds in doing (by writing) is to inoculate the world with a virus of his disillusionment. No man would set a word down on paper if he had the courage to live out what he believed in.
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Honest criticism means nothing: what one wants is unrestrained passion, fire for fire.
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Understanding is not a piercing of the mystery, but an acceptance of it, a living blissfully with it, in it, through and by it.
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Greece is the home of the gods they may have died but their presence still makes itself felt. The gods were of human proportion: they were created out of the human spirit.
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I like the one about the little soulworms that fly out of the nest for the resurrection.
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Dedication is not what others expect of you, it is what you can give to others.
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If you are well off and can afford to spend ten or twenty-five dollars a day to hire some patient soul to listen to your troubles you can be readjusted to the crazy scheme of things and spare yourself the humiliation of becoming a Christian Scientist. You can have your ego trimmed or removed, as you wish, just like a wart or bunion.
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At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love―just enough to feed the birds.
Henry Miller