Climb The Highest Mountain Quotes

He who climbs upon the highest mountains laughs at all tragedies, real or imaginary.

Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.

If you can't climb the highest mountain any more, go to the closest hill. It is better than staying at the bottom thinking you can't do it.

Fear is one of the greatest problems in life. A mind that is caught in fear lives in confusion, in conflict, and therefore must be violent, distorted and aggressive. It dare not move away from its own patterns of thinking, and this breeds hypocrisy. Until we are free from fear, climb the highest mountain, invent every kind of God, we will always remain in darkness. Living in such a corrupt, stupid society as we do, with the competitive education we receive which engenders fear, we are all burdened with fears of some kind, and fear is a dreadful thing which warps, twists and dulls our days.

To aim for the highest point is not the only way to climb a mountain.

Mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

I crossed oceans for you, Turned over every rock, Climbed the highest mountains, Holding on to the words you said, Reliving your touch inside my head, The taste of you on the tip of my tongue, Only to be left with you as only a fantasy inside my head.

I could run farther than a hare! I could fight the fiercest fox that ever lived...I could climb the highest mountain faster than an eagle could fly.

If life's journey was intended to be easy, we would have been given directions. However, since we have no road map, we must climb the highest mountain and forge the deepest streams with love in our souls, in the hope that our own journey will give us peace within...

Each era has the fatal hubris to believe that it has once and for all climbed to the top of the mountain and can see everything as it is, from the highest and most objective vantage point possible.

Only you could climb the highest mountain in the Empire, hunt down a fallen star, and escape the Fifth Army without a trace. - Tem, to Kamzin

I have climbed highest mountains I have run through the fields Only to be with you I have run I have crawled I have scaled these city walls These city walls Only to be with you But I still haven't found what I'm kooking for

Begin. Keep on beginning. Nibble on everything. Take a hike. Teach yourself to whistle. Lie. The older you get the more they'll want your stories. Make them up. Talk to stones. Short-out electric fences. Swim with the sea turtle into the moon. Learn how to die. Eat moonshine pie. Drink wild geranium tea. Run naked in the rain. Everything that happens will happen and none of us will be safe from it. Pull up anchors. Sit close to the god of night. Lie still in a stream and breathe water. Climb to the top of the highest tree until you come to the branch where the blue heron sleeps. Eat poems for breakfast. Wear them on your forehead. Lick the mountain's bare shoulder. Measure the color of days around your mother's death. Put your hands over your face and listen to what they tell you.

Sometimes you've got to start at the lowest valleys to climb to the highest mountain tops.

The best friends of the highest mountains are only the clouds and the adventurer mountaineers!

Once upon a time, [the guru] said, when God had finished making the world, he wanted to leave behind Him for man a piece of His own divinity, a spark of His essence, a promise to man of what he could become, with effort. He looked for a place to hide this Godhead because, he explained, what man could find too easily would never be valued by him. "Then you must hide the Godhead on the highest mountain peak on earth," said one of His councilors. God shook His head. "No, for man is an adventuresome creature and he will soon enough learn to climb the highest mountain peaks." "Hide it then, O Great One, in the depths of the earth!" "I think not," said God, "for man will one day discover that he can dig into the deepest parts of the earth." "In the middle of the ocean then, Master?" God shook His head. "I've given man a brain, you see, and one day he'll learn to build ships and cross the mightiest oceans." "Where then, Master?" cried His councilors. God smiled. "I'll hide it in the most inaccessible place of all, and the one place that man will never think to look for it. I'll hide it deep inside of man himself.

He admonished them never to think of themselves as the strongest or smartest. Even the highest mountain had animals that step on it, he warned. When the animals climb to the top of the mountain, they are even higher than it is.

President Kennedy made his speech at Rice University that confirmed his commitment. This time I was more attuned to his words. On a makeshift stage erected on the fifty-yard line at Rice Stadium, Kennedy repeated the question that many had raised: “Some have asked, why go to the Moon? One might as well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why sail the widest ocean?

Fear is one of the greatest problems in life. A mind that is caught in fear lives in confusion, in conflict, and therefore must be violent, distorted, and aggressive. It dare not move away from its own patterns of thinking, and this breeds hypocrisy. Until we are free from fear, we may climb the highest mountain, invent every kind of God, but we will remain in darkness.

Climb a mountain, see the world from its highest point and a new man will climb down

For Her, I can travel to the farthest of destinations I can dive into the deepest of oceans I can climb the highest of mountains

Just one thing can go down the deepest ocean,climb the highest mountain,walk the longest way and that is LOVE

The real flight of this hawk is impending. Still,this bird is yet to be tested for real. Though I have leaped over the seas, well,the entire sky is still remaining to fly. And make sure that ,i am gonna do it with all my heart and all my soul. #loveyoourlife #liveyourlife #hvFUN

but that is the whole point: I have to push my limits to the max. Sitting tight, waiting it out and living in the past, has never been my thing. I want to be at the world’s highest point again, knowing it might slip out from underneath me at any moment. Because that is the only way to live

Mountains are both journey and destination. They summon us to climb their slopes, explore their canyons, and attempt their summits. The summit, despite months of preparation and toil, is never guaranteed though tastes of sweet nectar when reached. If my only goal as a teacher and mountaineer is the summit, I risk cruel failure if I do not reach the highest apex. Instead, if I accept the mountain’s invitation to journey and create meaning in each step, success is manifest in every moment.

I crossed oceans for you, Turned over every rock, Climbed the highest mountains, Holding on to the words you said, Reliving your touch inside my head, The taste of you on the tip of my tongue, Only to be left with you as only a fantasy inside my head.

To live a life of excellence, you will have to take risks. You will have to step into new territory and climb new mountains. If you’re up to something that’s as big as you are, it’s going to be scary. If it feels perfectly safe, you are probably underachieving. To leave your mark in the world, you will have to stand someplace you’ve never been willing to stand before. And you will have to have the courage to aspire to excellence. To create an extraordinary life you will have to be present in each moment and give 100 percent of yourself. You will have to commit each day to being the best you can be, and aspire to perform your daily tasks in the most conscious way possible. Living your best year requires you to take a moment each time you’re about to make a move—whether you are about to deliver a communication, make a decision, or put something into your body—and make sure that move reflects the very highest choice you could make. 

Climbing mountains may seem easy but it takes thousands of foothills and perseverance to reach to the highest peak.

As one veteran Russian pilot dryly told me:"We have to be very careful flying in the clouds. Around here they are full of rocks.

When you climb up to the highest point of a mountain, the mountain will climb down to your lowest point!

Learning from experience means, in practice, learning from suffering; the only schoolmaster. Everyone knows that this is so, even though they try to persuade themselves and their fellows otherwise. Only so is it possible to understand how it came about that, through all the Christian centuries, people have been prepared to accept the Cross, ostensibly a symbol of suffering, as the true image and guarantee of their creator's love and concern for them. To climb the highest, stoniest mountain to set it on its peak, to carry it to the remotest, darkest, most forbidding corners of the earth; to build great cathedrals to glorify it; to find in it the inspiration for the most sublime achievements and noblest lives over the last two thousand years.

The fact that I am still alive, when so many friends and others climbing the 8000ers have died is humbling. ... It is only death that has stopped many mountaineers from achieving the full tally of 14.

We are not at the pinnacle of our power, of our existence. We have scrambled to the top of an ant-hill at the bottom of the world’s highest mountain. We have long way still to climb.” - The Blue Mountain

Antarctica is the highest, driest, coldest, and windiest place on the planet. The South Pole averages sixty below zero, has hurricane-strength winds, and sits at an altitude of ten thousand feet. In other words, those original explorers didn’t have to just get there, but had to climb serious mountains to do so. (Side note: Down here, you’re either an Amundsen guy, a Shackleton guy, or a Scott guy. Amundsen was the first to reach the Pole, but he did it by feeding dogs to dogs, which makes Amundsen the Michael Vick of polar explorers: you can like him, but keep it to yourself, or you’ll end up getting into arguments with a bunch of fanatics. Shackleton is the Charles Barkley of the bunch: he’s a legend, all-star personality, but there’s the asterisk that he never reached the Pole, i.e., won a championship. How this turned into a sports analogy, I don’t know. Finally, there’s Captain Scott, canonized for his failure, and to this day never fully embraced because he was terrible with people. He has my vote, you understand.)

Everything I’ve previously attempted in my life was child’s play compared to this. The pathway I’m walking is not just riddled with all manner of uncertainty; it’s also excruciatingly difficult to follow through! How do I know this is the right path for me, when it’s been costing me every ounce of willpower just to stay on track? How do I tell what my purpose is?’ ‘THIS is how you know it, Mario. This moment right here!’ Amanita had told him. ‘If the path you are walking feels back-breaking and steep, know you are climbing the Mountain of Purpose. The more you sacrifice on your journey, the more valuable its end reward.

Disappointed Englishman. Several Englishmen who were inveigled by a mountain guide in eastern Tyrol into climbing the Drei Zinnen with him were so disappointed, after reaching the highest of the three peaks, with what Nature had to offer them on this highest peak that then and there they killed the guide, a family man with three children and, it seems, a deaf wife. When, however, they realized what they had actually done, they threw themselves off the peak, one after the other. After this, a newspaper in Birmingham wrote that Birmingham had lost its most outstanding newspaper publisher, its most extraordinary bank director, and its most able undertaker.

And the journey on the spiritual path is the greatest journey - no man has climbed a mountain peak higher than this, no man has ever dived into a deeper ocean. The depth of the self is the deepest, and the height is the highest.

You look up when you feel the need for elevation. And I look down because I am elevated. Who among you can laugh and be elevated at the same time? Whoever climbs the highest mountains laughs at all tragic plays and tragic seriousness.

For Her, I Can: > travel to the farthest of destinations > marathon across the globe > hike through the lengthiest of trails > dive into the deepest of oceans > climb the highest of mountains > fly to the edges of the sky and beyond > standstill patiently for eons > g̶o̶ s̶h̶o̶p̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ h̶e̶r̶

But at some point in my midtwenties I abandoned my boyhood fantasy of climbing Everest. By then it had become fashionable among alpine cognoscenti to denigrate Everest as a “slag heap”—a peak lacking sufficient technical challenges or aesthetic appeal to be a worthy objective for a “serious” climber, which I desperately aspired to be. I began to look down my nose at the world’s highest mountain.

There is a Hindu legend that tells us that there was once a time when all men were gods, but they abused their divinity. Brahma, the god of creation, concluded that people had lost the right to their divinity and decided to take it away from them. Wanting to hide it somewhere where they wouldn’t be able to find it, he called a council of all the gods to advise him. Some suggested that they bury it deep in the earth, others that they sink it in the ocean, others still suggested it be placed on top of the highest mountain, but Brahma said that mankind was ingenious and would dig down far into the earth, trawl the deepest oceans and climb every mountain in an effort to find it again. ‘The gods were on the point of giving up when Brahma said, “I know where we will hide man’s divinity, we will hide it inside him. He will search the whole world but never look inside and find what is already within.”’ Viola

Sometimes strength is grasping on to a jagged trail on the steep side of the mountain, with icy rain on your shoulders and wind on your back. Sometimes strength is continuing to push upward against the incline in pursuit of the highest peak. It’s continuing the climb against heavy winds, as all of the traveled miles are wearing at your knees. Sometimes strength is waking up and choosing to breathe another day. Sometimes strength is getting out of bed.

Let us grant courage and the love of pure adventure their own justification, even if we cannot produce any material support for them. Mankind has developed an ugly habit of only allowing true courage to the killers. Great credits accrue to the one who bests another; little is given to the man who recognises in his comrade on the rope a part of himself, who for long hours of extreme peril faces no opponent to be shot or struck down, but whose battle is solely against his own weakness and insufficiency. Is the man who, at moments when his own life is in the balance, has not only to safeguard it but, at the same time, his friend's- even to the extent of mutual self-sacrifice- to receive less recognition than a boxer n the ring, simply because the nature of what he is doing is not properly understood? In his book about the Dachstein, Kurt Maix writes: "Climbing is th emost royl irrationality out of which Man, in his creative imagination, has been able to fashion the highest personal values." Those personal values, which we gain from our approach to the mountains, are great enough to enrich our life. Is not the irrationality of its very lack of purpose the deepest argument for climbing? But we had better leave philosophical niceties and unsuitable psychoanalisis out of this.

But the romantic element in his nature was to be no so much extinguished as transmuted into a romantic ambition, into dreams of a career which should outdo all the heroes of history...The carefully calculated and limited ambition of a a Frederick the Great was no longer enough for Napoleon. The urge to dominate, to dare, to play for the highest stakes was as instinctive to him and as irresistible as the urge of the mountaineer to climb Everest. This element of the irrational, the unlimited, the daemonic is as fundamental to the nature of Napoleon as it is to the character of Mozart's Don Giovannia. Without it, the career of Napoleon is unintelligible.

(from Lady of the Lake) The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o’er the glen their level way; Each purple peak, each flinty spire, Was bathed in floods of living fire. But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark ravines below, Where twined the path in shadow hid, Round many a rocky pyramid, Shooting abruptly from the dell Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; Round many an insulated mass, The native bulwarks of the pass, Huge as the tower which builders vain Presumptuous piled on Shinar’s plain. The rocky summits, split and rent, Formed turret, dome, or battlement, Or seemed fantastically set With cupola or minaret, Wild crests as pagod ever decked, Or mosque of Eastern architect. Nor were these earth-born castles bare, Nor lacked they many a banner fair; For, from their shivered brows displayed, Far o’er the unfathomable glade, All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen, The brier-rose fell in streamers green, And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, Waved in the west-wind’s summer sighs. Boon nature scattered, free and wild, Each plant or flower, the mountain’s child. Here eglantine embalmed the air, Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; The primrose pale, and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower; Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side, Emblems of punishment and pride, Grouped their dark hues with every stain The weather-beaten crags retain. With boughs that quaked at every breath, Gray birch and aspen wept beneath; Aloft, the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock; And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, Where glist’ning streamers waved and danced, The wanderer’s eye could barely view The summer heaven’s delicious blue; So wondrous wild, the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream. Onward, amid the copse ’gan peep A narrow inlet, still and deep, Affording scarce such breadth of brim As served the wild duck’s brood to swim. Lost for a space, through thickets veering, But broader when again appearing, Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face Could on the dark-blue mirror trace; And farther as the hunter strayed, Still broader sweep its channels made. The shaggy mounds no longer stood, Emerging from entangled wood, But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, Like castle girdled with its moat; Yet broader floods extending still Divide them from their parent hill, Till each, retiring, claims to be An islet in an inland sea. And now, to issue from the glen, No pathway meets the wanderer’s ken, Unless he climb, with footing nice A far projecting precipice. The broom’s tough roots his ladder made, The hazel saplings lent their aid; And thus an airy point he won, Where, gleaming with the setting sun, One burnished sheet of living gold, Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled, In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land. High on the south, huge Benvenue Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mountains, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world; A wildering forest feathered o’er His ruined sides and summit hoar, While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.

Between concentric pavement ripples glide errant echoes originating from beyond the Puddled Metropolis. Windowless blocks and pickle-shaped monuments demarcate the boundaries of patternistic cycles from those wilds kissed neither by starlight nor moonlight. Lethal underbrush of razor-like excrescence pierces at the skins of night, crawls with hyperactive sprouts and verminous vines that howl with contempt for the wicked fortunes of Marshland Organizers armed with scythes and hoes and flaming torches who have only succeeded in crafting their own folly where once stood something of glorious and generous integrity. There are familiar whispers under leaves perched upon by flapping moths. They implore the spirit again to heed the warnings of the vines and to not be swayed by the hubris of these organizing opportunists. One is to stop moving at frantic zigzags through gridlocked streets, stop climbing ladders altogether, stop relying on drainage pipes where floods should prevail, stop tapping one’s feet in waiting rooms expecting to be seen and examined and acknowledged. Rather, one is to eschew unseemly fabrications and conceal oneself beneath the surface of leaves—perhaps even inside the droplets of dew—one is, after all, to feel shameful of the form, of all forms, and seek instead to merge with whispers which do not shun or excoriate, for they are otherwise occupied in the act of designating meaning. Yet, what meaning stands beyond the rectitude of angles and symmetry, but rather in wilds among agitated insects and resplendent bogs and malicious spiders and rippling mosses pronouncing doom upon their surroundings? One is said to find only the same degree of opportunism, and nothing greatly edifying that could serve to extend beyond the banalities of self-preservation. But no, surely there is something more than this—there absolutely must be something more, and it is to be found! Forget what is said about ‘opportunism’—this is just a word and, thusly, a distraction. The key issue is that there are many such campaigns of contrivance mounted by the taxonomic self-interest of categories and frameworks ‘who’ only seek primacy and authority over their consumers. The ascription of ‘this’ may thusly be ascribed also with that of ‘this other’ and so it cannot be ‘that precisely’ because ‘this’ contradicts another ‘that other’ with which ‘this other’ surely claims affiliation. Certainly, in view of such limiting factors, there is a frustration that one is bound to feel that the answers available are constrained and formulaic and insufficient and that one is simply to accept the way of things as though they are defined by the highest of mathematics and do not beget anything higher. One is, thusly, to cease in one’s quest for unexplored possibility. The lines have been drawn, the contradictions defined and so one cannot expect to go very far with these mathematical rules and boundaries in place. There are ways out: one might assume the value of an imaginary unit and bounce out of any restrictive quadrant as with the errant echoes against the rippling pavement of this Puddled Metropolis. One will then experience something akin to a bounding and rebounding leap—iterative, but with all subleaps constituting a more sweeping trajectory—outward to other landscapes and null landscapes, inward through corridors and toward the centroid of circumcentric chamber clusters, into crevices and trenches between paradigms and over those mountain peaks of abstruse calculation.

I have seen worlds grow and die, until their ashes don't even float on the wind of the highest mountains. I've loved the legends of men whose names are lost, loved people who aren't even memories. The trees you climb now will be the coal that heats the rooms in a thousand years that house the babies that grow to found the empires that will crumble to dust while I sit and watch. I've seen libraries burn, my boy, I've seen books crackle and spit and crack to black earth and shadows. I've waited and slept and ignored more history than you and your islanders will ever know happened. Don't tell me I can't have a moment of thought before the bite.

there was joy in getting his blood pressure down . . . joy in climbing Mount Everest . . . joy in reaching the summits of six more of the world’s highest mountains . . . joy in building a profitable company providing houses that people could turn into homes . . . joy in learning to fly. But he will also tell you there has been no joy as great as giving from what God has blessed him with so that he might bless and serve others. That’s the true and ultimate purpose of setting and reaching goals.

April 26 The Supreme Climb Take now thy son, . . . and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of. Genesis 22:2 Character determines how a man interprets God’s will (cf. Psalm 18:25–26). Abraham interpreted God’s command to mean that he had to kill his son, and he could only leave this tradition behind by the pain of a tremendous ordeal. God could purify his faith in no other way. If we obey what God says according to our sincere belief, God will break us from those traditions that misrepresent Him. There are many such beliefs to be got rid of, e.g., that God removes a child because the mother loves him too much—a devil’s lie! and a travesty of the true nature of God. If the devil can hinder us from taking the supreme climb and getting rid of wrong traditions about God, he will do so; but if we keep true to God, God will take us through an ordeal which will bring us out into a better knowledge of Himself. The great point of Abraham’s faith in God was that he was prepared to do anything for God. He was there to obey God, no matter to what belief he went contrary. Abraham was not a devotee of his convictions, or he would have slain Isaac and said that the voice of the angel was the voice of the devil. That is the attitude of a fanatic. If you will remain true to God, God will lead you straight through every barrier into the inner chamber of the knowledge of Himself; but there is always this point of giving up convictions and traditional beliefs. Don’t ask God to test you. Never declare as Peter did—I will do anything, I will go to death with Thee. Abraham did not make any such declaration, he remained true to God, and God purified his faith.

The sea has had Conrad and Stevenson and Masefield, but the mountains continue to defy the written word. We have climbed their highest peaks and crossed their most difficult passes, but still they keep their secrets and their reserve; they remain remote, mysterious, spirit-haunted.

will climb the highest mountain. I will run the fastest mile. I will carry the world on my shoulders.” He

In our deepest valleys we are strengthened to climb our highest mountains.

When you climb my favorite Welsh mountain, the highest outside Snowdonia, by my favorite route, there are two places where you are sure you are seeing the top ahead of you; but when you get to the point you saw, you find it was only a fold in the terrain, and the real summit is still a distance away. That is a good illustration of how Christian ministry feels in all its forms.

Just because you love the mountains doesn’t mean the mountains love you.

The tram was mostly empty. It climbed steadily up a slope of tilted plain, stopping to pick up or drop off a few travellers. Those that saw Tefwe all stopped and stared at her for a few moments, then ignored her. Nobody chose to sit close to her. The sound built very slowly; it would have been hard to know when it first started to become distinct from the noises of the rattling, swaying tram and the wind moving over the surrounding fields of tall, bronze-coloured grasses and occasional thick-trunked coppery trees. She became aware of the sound when she realised that she’d been assuming for a while that somebody was humming monotonously just behind her, only there was nobody there. “Is that… the sound?” she sub-vocalised to the suit. “Yes.” The tram clattered to a stop at another station, and now she could hear the sound properly, distinctly; it was a low booming collection of tones like very distant and continuous thunder, all the individual claps rolled together and coming and going on the wind. She got up out of the uncomfortably tilted seat and went to the front of the tram’s middle carriage, heading upstairs to get a better view. There were more of the locals here; they parted as though to let her through to the front, but she bowed, gestured, hung back. She could see well enough. The mountains rose out of the hazy plain ahead like a dark storm of rock, the higher massifs draped with cloud, the highest peaks capped in orange-white ice and snow. The sound swelled and fell away with a sort of tantalising grace, its strength implicitly influenced not just by the light breezes circling round the tram but by mightier winds blowing tens of kilometres away towards the far horizon and kilometres further into the sky. The sound, she thought, was like something you might have heard from an enormous choir of basses singing a slow, sonorous hymn in a language you would never understand. The tram station in the foothills possessed a sort of modest, ordered busyness to it, full of the dark folds moving about it with their odd, side-to-side, flip-flopping walk. The station connected with a whole fan of cogged funicular lines, winding up into the mountains like something being unravelled. The sound here was a little louder, still coming and going on the wind.

I’ll go even further and say that competitiveness in mountaineering is wrong. It’s dangerous. Climbing should be personally motivated.

So, on March 17, 2016, when life handed me the highest and worst “mountain” I’ve ever had to climb, I was ready. While I never could have imagined the horrible events that unfolded would be part of my life story, I later realized I had trained for that moment my whole life. This book is my training plan. And my hard-earned gift to you.

Then my neighbor Yakob said: “Speak to us about defeat.” Does a leaf, when it falls from the tree in winter, feel defeated by the cold? The tree says to the leaf: “That’s the cycle of life. You may think you’re going to die, but you live on in me. It’s thanks to you that I’m alive, because I can breathe. It’s also thanks to you that I have felt loved, because I was able to give shade to the weary traveler. Your sap is in my sap; we are one thing.” Does a man who spent years preparing to climb the highest mountain in the world feel defeated when, on reaching that mountain, he discovers that nature has cloaked the summit in storm clouds? The man says to the mountain: “You don’t want me this time, but the weather will change and, one day, I will make it to the top. Meanwhile, you’ll still be here waiting for me.” Does a young man, rejected by his first love, declare that love does not exist? The young man says to himself: “I’ll find someone better able to understand what I feel. And then I will be happy for the rest of my days.” In the cycle of nature there is no such thing as victory or defeat; there is only movement.

Along the way, I learned that a person does not come to believe in himself by climbing mountains, but by facing his problems. I learned that the only way to truly experience love is to risk your heart completely. I was shown the courage to live genuinely and the power of forgiveness. My path taught me to listen, trust, and act; to place the success of others before my own; and to value the potential for making a difference in the life of a child. But most of all I learned that every big mountain is really just a lot of little mountains, and they can only be climbed one at a time. What’s more, your ability to climb today’s mountain is largely dependent on whether you found joy in climbing yesterday’s

Have faith and you will be amazed how that it enables you to climb the highest mountains.

Your life will take better shape if you are willing to find wisdom and have the courage to climb the highest mountains.

In all her years of living someone else's life, she'd believed she was already operating at the highest pinnacle of difficulty - that she was working as hard as humanly possible to survive. She could never have imagined how it might become even more difficult yet. It felt as though she'd climbed a mountain, only to realize that all she'd climbed were the foothills and the real peak lay far above. The though filled her with such a deep exhaustion that for a moment it felt like despair.

Have Faith and you will be amazed at how it enables you to climb the highest mountains.

In 1923, George Mallory, the dashing alpinist and writer, was asked by a New York Times reporter why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. He famously replied, “Because it’s there.” The rest of his response is less commonly cited, but more instructive: “Everest is the highest mountain in the world. It’s existence is a challenge. The answer is instinctive, a part, I suppose, of man’s desire to conquer the universe.

It isn’t the danger or the challenge that keeps me climbing, it’s the purity and focus. When you’re a five-second drop from being a smear of guts and pulverized bone, when your whole weight is on eight fingers, then seven, then five, your choices are black and white, made on instinct without baggage. When you climb hard and reach an impossible peak or ledge, you gain a new perspective, you see the world differently. It’s not just the angle you’re looking from that changes. You change too. They say you can’t go back, and I learned that when I returned to the Tall Castle after four years on the road. I walked the same halls, saw the same people, but I hadn’t gone back; I’d come to a new castle, seen with new eyes. The same is true if you climb high enough, only with climbing you don’t need to stay away for years. Climb a mountain, see the world from its highest point, and a new man will climb down to a world of subtle differences the next day. Metaphysics aside, there is plenty to be seen from a high point in the mountains. If you sit with your legs dangling over the biggest drop in the world, with the wind streaming your hair behind you, and your shadow falling so far it might never hit the ground…you notice new things.

Forger!" the king bellowed, his voice echoing across Tartarus. There was no answer. Hades leaped up, grasping the edges of the jagged mountainside, and began climbing the steep cliff until he reached the highest of the twin peaks. The amber flame of Tartarus lit the high mountain. "Unnamed One, show yourself!

Like words written in the sand taken away by waves Thousands of years of culture discovered in lost caves Climbing to a mountain at it's highest peak Out of no where strength when thought down and weak

The highest mountains are those who admire themselves, just because they cost to climb; The ease is boring at all. P. 91

When beset with doubt in troubled times, and those about you will understand if you come unglued, stay the ground, and face the challenge. For when you stand alone to confront life's highest mountains, the next shall be easier to climb.

He tried to teach them that the first key to leadership was self-control, particularly the mastery of pride, which was something more difficult, he explained, to subdue than a wild lion, and anger, which was more difficult to defeat than the greatest wrestler. He warned them that “if you can’t swallow your pride, you can’t lead.” He admonished them never to think of themselves as the strongest or smartest. Even the highest mountain had animals that step on it, he warned. When the animals climb to the top of the mountain, they are even higher than it is.

The purpose of life is to find your purpose. Run a marathon, sail oceans, cross deserts, climb the highest mountain but find yours!

Love is like a drug that can either kill you, weaken you or make you stronger. Like a poison that finds it way through you body with each kiss, each touch and each look. It makes you feel euphoric. Makes you feel like you can take on anything that comes on your path. Whether it walks behind, in front or beside you. No mountain is high enough, no ocean deep enough and the sky had no limit. It can make you feel weak. Make you question everything around except the person who the love is for. But it can also destroy you in a way you never would have imagined was even possible. It hurts like a thousand knives twisting against your spine, paralyzing you. It can make you feel like the world just caved in around you, beneath you. You ask yourself if this is all worth it. Worth the euphoric feeling of someone loving you. Worth everything. I can tell you that in the end, it is. Because now you may feel destroyed, but keep in mind that a feeling is something that can be changed. There is someone who will build you up. Who will climb the highest mountain or cross the deepest oceans. Who makes you feel alive all for the right reasons. Someone who will not sugar coat his intentions. Who will not say he's someone he actually is not. Someone who wants you in his life. Who shows you off like a show pony to show everyone how proud he/she is to have you in his/her life. The feeling of destruction will fade when you meet someone who is willing to build you up. Who doesn't care how deep your roots have rooted itself into the earth to keep yourself grounded. Who will find every last stone to make sure your as strong as ever when everything else came crumbling down.

Although I remain uncertain about God or any particular religion, I believe in karma. What goes around, comes around. How you live your life, the respect that you give others and the mountain, and how you treat people in general will come back to you in kindred fashion. I like to talk about what I call the Karma National Bank. If you give up the summit to help rescue someone who’s in trouble, you’ve put a deposit in that bank. And sometime down the road, you may need to make a big withdrawal. People

You’ve climbed higher mountains than I ever had to climb, but you have one more mountain to climb, and you know it. The past is always the highest peak, and the hardest to scale. But when you finally pull yourself to the top and peer over the edge, there’s nothing before you but the rest of your life.

Climb a mountain, see the world from its highest point, and a new man will climb down to a world of subtle differences the next day

Just when I begin to imagine I have achieved some pinnacle of understanding, reached the summit of the highest climb . . . I scramble the last few feet to the top only to see that I have merely gained a foothold on a narrow plateau and that entire new mountain ranges rise before me, serried ranks of peaks, each one higher than the last.

This caterpillar does not just simply grow wings First, it must alter its mind; transform the very being of itself It must climb the tallest tree, the highest mountain Swim the deepest of oceans Walk through the fiercest of flames And then, if it chooses, this caterpillar can become a butterfly

The Climb I will be done with mountains. Let The subsequent come, the fallen stone. Let blazes heal, let erosion. Having marked Certain places, it becomes easier to rest On the way back down. What name to leave This flower (or keep nameless), what small rock To bring back to where I will write you Of how it was, getting whatever remained Up to the site we thought highest. The mountain Does not move; nothing I can say Will move it. Beyond are only more mountains Conspiring as if to break free. And I cannot hear For the noise of breath; each finger uncurls And one blue flower where trees refuse to live.

Does a man who spent years preparing to climb the highest mountain in the world feel defeated when, on reaching that mountain, he discovers that nature has cloaked the summit in storm cloud?

Dear and vast country, which I admire, and which moves me so much, you, whose low sky caresses and consoles me; you, whose deep clouds and green hills almost bring me the memory of a happy childhood in a world where happiness and innocence are unknown; you take weakness from my mind. The mournful sound of your waters today speaks of death and melancholy; awake in me strength and confidence. Oh sadness, infinite grace, secret and aristocratic ardor, loftiness, pride spreading out from your wounds; there is strong confidence to be found at the very source of this pain, when it is gentle and without anger. Oh mountains, the small man climbing you is lost in your immensity you will never be divided; your domain belongs to all. Your borders, so high, so close to those beautiful clouds, that caress your highest peaks, are next to the sky, where everyone can be inspired and uplifted. Mountains and clouds, region of both the ideal and of dreams.

41. Never Work Again! There’s only one place where success comes before work, and that’s in the dictionary. Everywhere else in life, you do not get success without first working hard. This is why it’s important that you find the rewards you seek from the work itself. I would be climbing mountains and throwing myself off cliffs even if I wasn’t being paid to do it - because I love the sweat, the toil, the risk and the endeavor. It makes me feel alive. I can bet you that Mozart would have made music even if no one had listened. (In fact, he did, and for a large part of his life no one cared.) If you love the process, then the length of the journey doesn’t matter so much. So often it takes actors or climbers or musicians decades to find ‘success’, but they eventually triumph because they are working within their passion. Do this for long enough and with enough enthusiasm, and ‘success’ will come. Even if it is not in the form you might first imagine. A love of what you do is one of the highest forms of success you can ever have. If you do what you love, then you’ll never have to do a day’s work for the rest of your life.

A few years ago, I led an expedition to return to Mount Everest, the mountain I had climbed aged 23, a mountain where I had risked everything and survived - just. I had always held a secret dream to return and attempt to fly over the mountain in a small one-man paramotor - like a paraglider, only with a backpack engine strapped to your body. At the time, the highest altitude that one had been flown was around 17,000 feet (5,180 metres). But being an enthusiast (and an optimist!), I reckoned we shouldn’t just aim to break the record by a few feet, I thought we should go as high as it was possible to go, and in my mind that meant flying over the height of Mount Everest. This in turn meant we needed to build a machine capable of flying to over 29,000 feet (8,840 metres). Most of the people we spoke to about this thought a) we were crazy, and b) it was technically impossible. What those naysayers hadn’t factored in was the power of yes, and specifically the ability to build a team capable of such a mission. This meant harnessing the brilliance of my good friend Gilo Cardozo, a paramotor engineer, a born enthusiast, and a man who loves to break the rules - and to say yes. Gilo was - and is - an absolute genius aviation engineer who spends all his time in his factory, designing and testing crazy bits of machinery. When people told us that our oxygen would freeze up in minus 70°, or that at extreme altitudes we would need such a heavy engine to power the machine that it would be impossible to take off, or that even if we managed to do it, we would break our legs landing at such speed, Gilo’s response was: ‘Oh, it’ll be great. Leave it with me.’ No matter what the obstacle, no matter what the ‘problem’, Gilo always said, ‘We can do this.’ And after months in his workshop, he did eventually build the machine that took us above the height of Everest. He beat the naysayers, he built the impossible and by the Grace of God we pulled it off - oh, and in the process we raised over $2.5 million for children’s charities around the world. You see, dreams can come true if you stick to them and think big. So say yes - you never know where it will lead. And there are few limits to how high you just might soar.

He who climbs upon the highest mountains laughs at all tragedies, real or imaginary.

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Spiritual growth is like climbing the cold and shadowed side of a mountain, our energy is most exhausted at the very point when we have climbed the highest and have the furthest to fall, however, the weariness and the chance of falling are required if we are to ever truly know the embrace of the warm and perfected Light that awaits us at the peak.

a simple but stark criterion: the number of climbers who successfully reach the summit compared to the number who die on the mountain. For Everest, the ratio turns out to be seven to one. For K2, which has the reputation of being the hardest and most dangerous of the high peaks, the ratio is a little over three to one. But for Annapurna, it’s exactly two to one. For every two climbers who get to the top, one climber dies trying.

Fawn knew no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, Willow would never know she was beautiful. Even if he climbed the highest mountain and shouted it across the world, she would never believe the truth.

Spirituality" should only be called spirituality, when it does not come in between you and your fellow human being. "Spirituality" is only spirituality, when it creates genuine connections between you and your fellow human being. We have observed, since time immemorial, how "spirituality" has become a wall that is built in between person and other persons; bringing out segregation, distance and disconnection. When it is this, it is not spirituality, there is nothing spiritual about it. It is but a tool of the ego. Show me a person who can connect to a drunken man on the street, just as profoundly as he can connect to his chosen spiritual leaders, and I will point out to you a spiritual person. The purpose of spirituality is connection; not disconnection. Connection between mind and soul; then connection between yours and others' minds and souls. The most spiritual, highest state of the human being is the state of the small child: there is no knowledge of dissonance, no knowledge of separation. All is connected, all is there because it is so. There is pure joy in an ice cream cone. The small child is far more spiritual than your enlightened teachers. Climbing a mountain, whether metaphorical or physical, in order to segregate oneself into "spirituality", is not spirituality at all. If you must hide the candle flame from the darkness, then it is not really a candle flame, is it? If it disconnects you from another person, especially a person whom you love, then it is not spirituality; it is ego. True spirituality does not need numbers, does not need followers, does not feel the need to persuade. True spirituality acknowledges that you may do as you do and I may do as I do and our opinions of spirit and soul ought to be the very last thing that could ever come in between us. If it brings you together and lights the wicks within your souls, it is spirituality. If it brings you together even when there is nothing in common, it is spirituality. An ice cream cone, in its simple ability to fill everyone's heart with innocent joy, is true spirituality. Not your church. Not your doctrine. If it brings you back to the state of heart, of the small child, it is spirituality.