the paradox [Theme] Page 1

The paradox of the world is that it is like a book - the book is not finished, but the points should be put much more often than the end of paragraphs.

When science has approached that beautiful point where paradox is completely identified with a lie, who would dare to encounter thoughts on almost every page that directly contradict what he once and for all recognized as the ultimate truth?

I am sending my book into the world with deep seriousness - in the hope that sooner or later it will reach those to whom it was solely intended. And I calmly submit to the fact that she will be fully comprehended by the same fate that in every knowledge, and even more so in the most important, has always fallen to the lot of truth: she is destined only for a short triumphant triumph between two long periods of time when she is rejected as a paradox and when it is neglected as triviality.

What a paradox, it is always easier for us to speak out when we are not heard or it is too late.

- Completed! You have three wishes.

- How much does a shopkeeper pay you for one piece of furniture? I will pay you twice as much for one lesson.
- Yes you're crazy! They will laugh at me and stop being respected.
- Did the shopkeeper convince you?
- Not a shopkeeper, but my wife.
His lips were touched by an unwitting grin.
- You... You don't want to take me as a student because I'm a woman, but the woman's opinion is decisive for you? Lara said bitterly.

Some people suffer because of their failures, but, paradoxically, many suffer because of the consequences of their success.

At every step I with alarming frequency meet people with underdeveloped social skills. Why work with people so attracted to misanthropes? It's a paradox.

Man, my dear, is a paradox. A very strange creation. Exotic. Laughs when you cry, cry when should laugh, live without reason and dies without any desires.

In this-the paradox of repentance is closer to the light, the brighter spots are noticeable, invisible in the darkness.

You know, paradoxically, the more Mature you become, the less you man.

One of the main principles of human existence is that we need two terms to characterize our relations with others, even if it's a relationship of unity. We are forced to use a somewhat awkward expression "separate-but-linked"[6] to describe what really is a characteristic of our lives. When we are in the greatest disorder with its existence, we experience these two stages as completely different. Our relationships with others do not allow us to obtain solace in loneliness and solitude our only destroys our hopes for a genuine contact with others. On the other hand, when we are most authentic, we sometimes find out how these aspects can truly merge. In the most genuine moments of intimacy between a man and woman who truly love and trust each other, the paradox of separateness but connectedness is overcome. The more one has, the more correct it is another. No more giving and receiving; between me and others, there is no abyss. On the contrary, there is the joy of realization, of a new opening in relations and reaffirm a deep inner response of the partner.

November 14, 1944, the year in Prague was established the Committee for the liberation of the peoples of Russia (ACPD), with the participation of Himmler, which included all the Soviet traitors: Russian, Ukrainian, Caucasian, Baltic.
In November, the 44th was already clear that the Reich - the end; we had only to choose whom to surrender, Russian or American. The Nazis - here's the paradox - I decided to surrender to the Americans, which actually was conceived by Himmler all this Prague performance. Strange how it turns out - if Hitler and Stalin are one and the same, why did the Nazis surrender to the Americans? Yes, because there is between fascism and American imperialism ideologically conflicts, not at all.

The rains have gone... In the morning fog spreading like a huge feathery cloud. Not see the house across the street, the Windows shrouded in steam, the trees like cotton. All around - soft, plush, weightless. I love these in the morning. The calm, the silence, the feeling of a fairy tale. Today, Socrates woke up at five in the morning, something was trying to say, then curled up and fell asleep.
I think he was trying to whisper about how nice to be idle and quiet. I know it is. Without prompting homegrown philosophers. Idleness has taught. Work, including. Paradox? Not at all. Try to spend alone and idle at least twenty-one days. The duration of the quarantine. If you don't decide by the end of the second week to commit suicide from the opened abyss, then begin a new existence. Nothing feels human freedom. It is one thing to obey conventions, to compel myself to work, as a duty, another thing to realize the desire of his heart. But first - a painful return to his real "I". All the breaking of the three-pillar human beings. Flour weakened by the twenty-first day. Why? Say that updated blood composition. And where there is blood there is the spirit. The test is not easy. Sometimes, at night will be without the usual worldly pleasures, and then frantically found the button, which wants to escape from himself, his self. Noise comfortable because it allows you to listen to the silence. There will come from the heavenly bells? Well, as something terrible? Run from yourself, do not want to stop and take a break. I'm afraid to be alone with freedom.
From birth we fall into the slavery conventions. And then can't stand freedom.
(Psychologist and a psychopath)