For a long time the human instinct to understand was thwarted by facile religious explanations.
God is in my head, but the devil is in my pants.
The pre-history of our species is hag-ridden with episodes of nightmarish ignorance and calamity, for which religion used to identify, not just the wrong explanation, but the wrong culprit. Human sacrifices were made preeminently in times of epidemics, useless prayers were uttered, bogus miracles attested to, and scapegoats - such as Jews or heretics or witches - hunted down and burned.
He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch.
Any attempt at understanding humanity must include an explanation of the hold that supernatural belief continues to have on most of the human race.
Never retract, never explain, never apologize; get things done and let them howl.
They [scientists of centuries past] call on God only from the lonely and precarious edge of incomprehension. Where they feel certain about their explanations, however, God gets hardly a mention.
In evolution, as in all areas of science, our knowledge is incomplete. But the entire success of the scientific enterprise has depended on an insistence that these gaps be filled by natural explanations, logically derived from confirmable evidence. Because "intelligent design" theories are based on supernatural explanations, they can have nothing to do with science.
Since the most important element of any concept is that its originating question be appropriately framed, any theory demanding an explanation for homosexuality is a problematic one because it maintains our existence as a category of deviance. I mean, no one is running around trying to figure out why some people like sports, for example.
Some explanations of a crime are not explanations: they're part of the crime.
Never complain. Never explain.
Pain is strong, aye - but friends' eyes, more strong." I told him that he knows next to nothing about me & I know nothing about him. He jabbed at his eyes & jabbed at mine, as if that single gesture were ample explanation.
One of the servants had reported that Daisy had been sneaking around the house at night, deliberately tripping all the traps to keep the mice from being killed. “Is this true, daughter?” Thomas Bowman had rumbled, his gaze filled with ire as he stared at Daisy. “It could be,” she had allowed. “But there is another explanation.” “And what is that?” Bowman had asked sourly. Her tone turned congratulatory. “I think we are hosting the most intelligent mice in New York!
Every woman wants to be first to someone sometime in her life and that desire is the explanation for many strange things women do.
I wondered if kicking him in the head would make the whole explanation pop out of his mouth in one chunk.
The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled. Each evening we see the sun set. We know that the earth is turning away from it. Yet the knowledge, the explanation, never quite fits the sight.
That is the explanation of war, an outrage by humanity upon humanity in despite of humanity.
We'll choose knowledge no matter what, we'll maim ourselves in the process, we'll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive; love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We'll spy relentlessly on the dead; we'll open their letters, we'll read their journals, we'll go through their trash, hoping for a hint, a final word, an explanation, from those who have deserted us--who've left us holding the bag, which is often a good deal emptier than we'd supposed.
I don't need any explanation about what you do with your life. You and I...we grew up together,and that's it. Yeah, we shared a lot of stuff back then, and we were there for each other when it mattered. But neither one of us can fit into the clothes we used to wear , and this relationship between us is just the same. It doesn't fit in our lives any longer. We don't...fit anymore. And listen., I didn't mean to get pissy in the truck, but I think you need to be clear on this. You and I? We have a past. That's it. That's ...all we'll ever have" (Blay to Qhuinn).
Poor people never, or hardly ever, ask for an explanation of all they have to put up with. They hate one another, and content themselves with that.
A garter. You’re supposed to take it off and keep it as a memento. K-k-kinda like a trophy for going far sexually with a girl. It’s stupid, really. And kind of d-d-degrading if I think about it too m-m-much.” “I know what it is,” he says, amusement evident in his voice. “I just wanted to hear your explanation.
I had no words to give him. No explanation. I didn’t understand it, myself. It scared me, but then so do roller coasters, and I ride them anyway, too.
Some who support [more] coercive strategies assume that children will run wild if they are not controlled. However, the children for whom this is true typically turn out to be those accustomed to being controlled— those who are not trusted, given explanations, encouraged to think for themselves, helped to develop and internalize good values, and so on. Control breeds the need for more control, which is used to justify the use of control.
The present moment, though, is outside of time, it’s Eternity. In India they use the word “karma” for lack of any better term. But it’s a concept that’s rarely given a proper explanation. It isn’t what you did in the past that will affect the present. It’s what you do in the present that will redeem the past and thereby change the future.
It is my view that the simplest explanation is there is no God. No one created the universe and no one directs our fate. This leads me to a profound realization. There is probably no heaven, and no afterlife either. We have this one life to appreciate the grand design of the universe, and for that, I am extremely grateful.
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