How shall we define a god? Expressed in psychological terms (which are primary-there is no getting behind them) a god is something that gives us the … - Aldous Huxley

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How shall we define a god? Expressed in psychological terms (which are primary-there is no getting behind them) a god is something that gives us the peculiar kind of feeling which Professor Otto has called "numinous". Numinous feelings are the original god-stuff from which the theory-making mind extracts the individualised gods of the pantheon.

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About Aldous Huxley

Aldous Leonard Huxley (26 July 1894 – 22 November 1963) was a British author known for his novel Brave New World. He was the grandson of Thomas Henry Huxley and younger brother of Julian Huxley.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Birth Name: Aldous Leonard Huxley Arnold
Alternative Names: Aldous Leonard Huxley
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Additional quotes by Aldous Huxley

The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend.

È buio perché ti stai sforzando troppo. [...] Con leggerezza, bimba, con leggerezza. Impara a fare ogni cosa con leggerezza. [...] Sì, usa la leggerezza nel sentire, anche quando il sentire è profondo. Con leggerezza lascia che le cose accadano, e con leggerezza affrontale. [...] Dunque getta via il tuo bagaglio e procedi. Sei circondata ovunque da sabbie mobili, che ti risucchiano i piedi, che cercano di risucchiarti nella paura, nell'autocommiserazione e nella disperazione. Ecco perché devi camminare con tale leggerezza. Con leggerezza, tesoro mio.

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But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin.'

'In fact,' said Mustapha Mond, 'you're claiming the right to be unhappy.'

'All right then,' said the Savage defiantly, 'I'm claiming the right to be unhappy.'

'Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.' There was a long silence.

'I claim them all,' said the Savage at last.

Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. 'You're welcome.

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