Ape Inspiring Quotes

The Jewish sages also tell us that God dances when His children defeat Him in argument, when they stand on their feet and use their minds. So questions like Anne's are worth asking. To ask them is a very fine kind of human behavior. If we keep demanding that God yield up His answers, perhaps some day we will understand them. And then we will be something more than clever apes, and we shall dance with God.

Treat each other like human beings? But the other great apes have no class hierarchy.

Civilization is only possible for deeply unpleasant animals. It is only an ape that can be truly civilized.

[Responding to the Bishop of Oxford, Samuel Wilberforce's question whether he traced his descent from an ape on his mother's or his father's side] A man has no reason to be ashamed of having an ape for his grandfather. If there were an ancestor whom I should feel shame in recalling it would rather be a man—a man of restless and versatile intellect—who … plunges into scientific questions with which he has no real acquaintance, only to obscure them by an aimless rhetoric, and distract the attention of his hearers from the real point at issue by eloquent digressions and skilled appeals to religious prejudice.

As far as I can recall, the initial shiver of inspiration [for Lolita] was somehow prompted by a newspaper story about an ape in the Jardin des Plantes, who, after months of coaxing by a scientist, produced the first drawing ever charcoaled by an animal: this sketch showed the bars of the poor creature's cage.

His straight and perfect figure, muscled as the best of the ancient Roman gladiators must have been muscled, and yet with the soft and sinuous curves of a Greek god, told at a glance the wondrous combination of enormous strength with suppleness and speed.

When you’ve worked hard and done well and walked through that doorway of opportunity, you do not slam it shut behind you.

Can you imagine, somebody telling you, your love for your dearly beloved is a sin! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, women are inferior to men, and are meant only serve the men! Can you imagine, somebody telling you, a man can have multiple wives, and yet be deemed civilized! Here that somebody is a fundamentalist ape - a theoretical pest from the stone-age, that somehow managed to survive even amidst all the rise of reasoning and intellect.

Yes, one can wager war in this world, ape love, torture one’s fellow man, or merely say evil of one’s neighbor while knitting. But, in certain cases, carrying on, merely continuing, is superhuman.

I found myself drawn to biology, with all its frustrating yet fascinating complexities. When I was twelve, I remember reading about axolotls, which are basically a species of salamander that has evolved to remain permanently in the aquatic larval stage. They manage to keep their gills (rather than trading them in for lungs, like salamanders or frogs) by shutting down metamorphosis and becoming sexually mature in the water. I was completely flabbergasted when I read that by simply giving these creatures the “metamorphosis hormone” (thyroid extract) you could make the axolotl revert back into the extinct, land-dwelling, gill-less adult ancestor that it had evolved from. You could go back in time, resurrecting a prehistoric animal that no longer exists anywhere on Earth. I also knew that for some mysterious reason adult salamanders don’t regenerate amputated legs but the tadpoles do. My curiosity took me one step further, to the question of whether an axolotl—which is, after all, an “adult tadpole”—would retain its ability to regenerate a lost leg just as a modern frog tadpole does. And how many other axolotl-like beings exist on Earth, I wondered, that could be restored to their ancestral forms by simply giving them hormones? Could humans—who are after all apes that have evolved to retain many juvenile qualities—be made to revert to an ancestral form, perhaps something resembling Homo erectus, using the appropriate cocktail of hormones? My mind reeled out a stream of questions and speculations, and I was hooked on biology forever. I found mysteries and possibilities everywhere.

Ummiye is currently working on a screenplay called "Footless on Her Own Feet." It tells the story of a handicapped girl whose fifty-year-old mother pushes her to school every day in a wheelbarrow. Eventually, she wins a national drawing contest, making a super-realistic picture of herself in the wheelbarrow. With the prize money, she buys a wheelchair. Like the Arslankoy theatre, the girl's drawing uses artistic representation to change the thing represented. By drawing a truthful picture of the humiliating wheelbarrow, she transforms it into a dignified wheelchair-- much as a theatre, by representing the injustice of village women's life, might make that life more just. Nabokov once claimed that the inspiration for Lolita was an art work produced by an ape in the Jardin des Plantes: a drawing of the bars of its cage. It's a good metaphor for artistic production. What else do we ever draw besides the bars of our cage, or the wheelbarrow we rode in as crippled children? How else do cages get smashed? How else will we stand on our own feet?

A civilization is built upon the edifice of genuine human minds, not the primitive and deluded minds of barbarian apes, who in most cases read one book of opinions written hundreds or thousands of years ago and think that they have factual answers to all the questions in the world.

The most sensitive period of their developmental age, when the kids are supposed to be taught to question everything and nourish their reasoning skills, they are taught that God created the world in seven days – that the human race did not evolve from apes through millions of years, rather it came from the amorous congress between two God-made humans, named Adam and Eve. And if you ask why? The answers of the uneducated primordial teachers would be that the scriptures say so. And now if you ask, can’t the scriptures be wrong – do I have to take these stories literally? They would lash out with rage and shout at you – how dare you question the scriptures! Every single word in it is true. There is no greater truth than the truth of these sacred texts.

Sonnet 1359 I know people who use God as excuse for hate and war. I know people who use God as inspiration for love and peace. I know people who use Science as excuse to be cold and inhuman. I know people who use Science as means to be warm and responsible. It's neither God nor Science, that causes coldness and war. In the hands of a selfish ape, Science and God are equally impotent. But when it's a responsible human that wields either God or Science, You can rest assured of one thing, nothing can dent their humanness.

It was time to tell them the story of Jesus Christ. It was time to save their souls. Powerful sermons meant to convert nonbelievers have a certain structure. You’re supposed to talk about your own weaknesses, about how Christianity saved you, about how you once were blind but now you could see. Everett told them a story about his stepmother’s suicide. This was supposed to trigger a powerful emotional response. But after telling this story, he was greeted by laughter. He was hurt and confused. “What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” he asked. “You people kill yourselves?” the Piraha replied. “We don’t do that. What is this?” It was not that they were mean-spirited or had a cruel sense of humor; it was the very notion of suicide that struck them as unbelievably bizarre and outrageous. And then it dawned on Everett! He had come here to save the Piraha, but they weren’t the ones who needed saving. He writes: I realized they don’t have a word for worry, they don’t have any concept of depression, they don’t have any schizophrenia or a lot of the mental health problems, and they treat people very well. If someone does have any sort of handicap, and the only ones I’m aware of are physical, they take very good care of them. When people get old, they feed them. Still, Everett was determined that his training should not go to waste. He was a true believer; he thought he was doing good by telling them how Jesus would want them to live. So while living with the Piraha, every once in a while, he would pepper them with inspiring anecdotes about Jesus, explaining Christian theology and morality, hoping that the Piraha would change their ways. One morning, he was sitting around drinking coffee when one of the Piraha said: “Dan, I want to talk with you. We like you, we know you live with us because the land is beautiful, and we have plenty of fish, and you don’t have that in the United States...but you know we have had people come and tell us about Jesus before. Somebody else told us about Jesus, and then the other guy came and told us about Jesus, and now you’re telling us about Jesus, and we really like you but, see, we’re not Americans, and we don’t want to know about Jesus. We like to drink, and we like to have a good time, and we like, you know...to have sex with many people, both women and men. So don’t tell us anymore about Jesus or God. We are tired of it.” And then they ate him. Just kidding.

Relax' is a real tough one for me. Another tough one is 'smile.' 'Smile' doesn't really work either. Telling me to relax or smile when I'm angry is like bringing a birthday cake into an ape sanctuary. You're just asking to get your nose and genitals bitten off.

If you do not grasp, intellectually or spiritually, the 'One' in All, you would've lived and died as your former self - ape, et all.

Risen apes, not fallen angels, Still stumbling hither and thither, Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Doesn't matter as long as we have each other

Our knowledge is so limited that often we are not much better than an ape.

Of all the species on earth, we seem to be the only ones lacking an "enough" gene. In the wild, dogs, lions, cows, monkeys, apes, even mosquitoes and houseflies, eat until they are satisfied. They don't keep eating to obesity. Animals from squirrels to blue jays store food for winter-and some do store a little more than their needs. This might be seen as suboptimized evolution, as if they weren't evolved enough to remember where they'd hidden all their stores. However, the leftovers benefit other animals and move seeds to new growing sites. It's all part of a balanced ecosystem with zero waste.

apes are more intelligent than the illuminati.

Planet of the Apes, I did not need CC as I was watching the apes.

The first little throb of Lolita went through me late in 1939 or early in 1940, in Paris, at a time when I was laid up with a severe attack of intercostal neuralgia. As far as I can recall, the initial shiver of inspiration was somehow prompted by a newspaper story about an ape in the Jardin des Plantes, who, after months of coaxing by a scientist, produced the first drawing ever charcoaled by an animal: this sketch showed the bars of the poor creature's cage.

A monk in drag, an extraterrestrial, and a bonobo ape wander into a bar… The world desperately wanted something to laugh about. Something to believe in. Someone willing to try something different. The world took a big risk, and then it fell in love.

Less immediately, [Mr Pye] is also about the relationships between art and religion and art and the world of commerce. Mr Pye would have the island's resident artist, Thorpe, who is for ever in search of the ultimate painting, believe that all inspiration is spiritual and divine. Thorpe finds it in the material world, for he is infatuated by the beauty of the island's whore, Tintagieu. That each exploits beauty in their respective trades is underlined when he tells her that she ought to be a film actress. 'They'd shoot you from below. Streamers of cloud behind your head and all that racket.' 'Shoot me from below? I'd like to see them,' retorts Tintagieu. 'Sounds bloody painful to me.' This exchange leads naturally into a splendid tirade, which Peake placed in Thorpe's mouth, linking all the themes of art and inspiration, artists and their physical suffering, the art trade and belief in spiritual values. 'Oh, these theories,' Thorpe added in a voice of scorn and with a flourish of his free arm (for Mr Pye still held the elbow of the other) - 'these theories about Art, they are all absolute n-nonsense.' (He was winding himself up, for Tintagieu was listening - he hoped.) 'Can't you see the whole thing is an organised racket? The p-painter digs his heart up and tries to sell it. The heart specialists become interested, for the thing is still b-beating. The hangers-on begin to suck the blood. They lick each other like c-cats. They bare their fangs like d-dogs. The whole thing is pitiful. Art is in the hands of amateurs, the Philistines, the racketeers, the Jews, the snarling women and the raging queers to whom Soutine is "ever so pretty" and Rembrandt "ever s-so sweet". 'What do the galleries know? They are merely m-merchants. They sell pictures instead of lampshades and that's the only difference. And the critics - Lord, what clever b-boys they are! They know about everything except painting. That's why I came out here to get away from it all. The jungle of London with its millions of apes. I came out here to find myself, but have I done so? No, Mr Pye. Of c-course I haven't. For artists need competition and the stimulus of other b-brains whether they like it or not. They must talk painting, b-breathe painting, and be c-covered with paint. That is the kind of man I would talk to. A man c-covered with paint. And with paint in his hair and paint in the brain and on the b-brain - but where are they, these men? - they're in the great cities, among the m-monkeys where they can see each other work and fight it out, while as f-far as the public is concerned they might as well be knitting, or blowing b-bubbles, for even you, Mr Pye, if you don't mind my saying so, haven't got a c-clue what it's all about, as your ridiculous "slap it on", "whisk it off" and "hey presto" attitude shows all t-too clearly. Your idea about colours is "the m-more the b-better", and "bright as p-possible", like a herbaceous b-border. Colour, Mr Pye, is a process of elimination. It is the d-distillation of an attitude. It is a credo.' Mr Pye's face was pink with admiration. he ran his eyes over the painter as though he had never seem him before. He turned his head quickly to Tintagieu as though for corroboration and then he ran his eyes again all over Thorpe. 'That was superb,' he whispered, as though to himself.

These neurological processes work similarly in almost every species, including birds and even reptiles. That is, fear responses aren't coordinated by the parts of the brain that allow us to achieve particularly human cognitive acts, such as writing novels or solving crossword puzzles, the frontal, temporal, and parietal lobes of the neocortex. This wrinkled layer of gray matter that's highly developed in humans and other great apes, as well as whales, dolphins, and elephants, helps coordinate complex cognitive processes. Our responses to fear and anxiety are different and probably originate in the subcortical regions of the brain, shared by most vertebrates and perhaps other creatures as well. Animals capable of complex thought may have more nuanced and coordinated responses to danger, perceived or real, once we sense it. Humans, and other animals with a lot of brainpower, can construct elaborate escape plans, for example, or develop sophisticated ideas about whatever is agitating or scaring us. But the emotional experience of the anxiety or fear might be similar regardless of intelligence. These similarities are one set of reasons that nonhuman animals have been used for more than a century as neurophysiology research subjects in the quest to develop therapies for people. In the mid 1930s, the Yale neurophysiologist John Fulton performed the first frontal lobotomies on two anxious and angry chimps named Becky and Lucy. After the operation Fulton reported that Becky in particular looked like she'd joined a "happiness cult." His results helped inspire other researchers to try the surgery on people. Electroconvulsive "shock" therapy was first developed in other creatures as well, not as a treatment for animal schizophrenia but rather to determine safe voltage levels for humans. Italian researchers induced seizures in dogs and, in 1937, visited a pig slaughterhouse in Rome where the animals were stunned into unconsciousness before their throats were cut. If the pigs weren't immediately killed, they experienced the kind of convulsions that the researchers hoped would function as psychiatric cures in human patients. By 1938, a schizophrenic man known as Enrico X was given eighty volts of electricity that caused him to seize, go pale, and, oddly enough, start singing. After two more sets of shocks he called out in clear Italian, "Attention! Another time is murderous!" Within a few years, ECT had taken hold of psychiatry, first in Switzerland, then sweeping through Germany, France, the United Kingdom, Latin America, and, finally, the United States. By 1947, nine out of ten American mental hospitals were using some form of electroshock therapy on patients.