Hamartia Quotes

Everyone in this tale had a rock-solid hamartia: hers, that she is so sick; yours, that you are so well. Were she better or you sicker, then the stars would not be so terribly crossed, but it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note, “The fault, dear Brutus, is no in our stars / But in ourselves.” Easy to say when you’re a Roman nobleman (or Shakespeare!), but there is no shortage of fault to be found amid our stars.

But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER.

I guess I had a hamartia after all.

and pulled out, of all things, a pack of cigarettes ”Are you serious?” I asked. “You think that’s cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing.” “Which whole thing?” he asked, turning to me ”The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literally and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER…

In the original Greek, one of the meanings of sin [hamartia] is simply “to miss the mark.

Then Augustus Waters reached into a pocket and pulled out, of all things, a pack of cigarettes. He flipped it open and put a pack between his lips. “Are you serious?” I asked. “You think that’s cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing.” “Which whole thing?” he asked, turning to me. The cigarette dangled unlit from the unsmiling corner of his mouth. “The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that, oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? SUCKS. Totally disappointing. Totally.” “A hamartia?” he asked, the cigarette still in his mouth. It tightened his jaw. He had a hell of a jawline, unfortunately. “A fatal flaw,” I explained, turning away from him.

Everyone in this tale has a rock-solid hamartia: hers, that she is so sick; yours, that you are so well. Were she better or you sicker, then the stars would not be so terribly crossed, but it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius, "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.

Fate is what is given to us; destiny is what we are summoned to become. In the interplay of the two, human character plays a role. Hubris, or the fantasy that we know enough to know enough, seduces us toward choices that lead to unintended consequences. Hamartia, the failure to see clearly enough, to see humbly enough, is a lens through which we imperfectly envision the world, unavoidably distorting and reductive, but convincing at the moment nonetheless.

The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? SUCKS. Totally disappointing. Totally.

Yes, You are my hamartia And my muse I don’t have any ex; I am a lover of one The tragic picture of our youth

hamartia,

The New Testament uses five main Greek words for sin, which together portray its various aspects, both passive and active. The commonest is hamartia, which depicts sin as a missing of the target, the failure to attain a goal. Adikia is ‘unrighteousness’ or ‘iniquity’, and ponēria is evil of a vicious or degenerate kind. Both these terms seem to speak of an inward corruption or perversion of character. The more active words are parabasis (with which we may associate the similar paraptōma), a ‘trespass’ or ‘transgression’, the stepping over a known boundary, and anomia, ‘lawlessness’, the disregard or violation of a known law. In each case an objective criterion is implied, either a standard we fail to reach or a line we deliberately cross.

Hamartia was originally an archery term, and it meant to miss the mark or target. There are many ways that a target can be missed. Frequently, in my clinical practice—and in my personal life—I observed that people did not get what they needed (or, equally importantly perhaps, what they wanted) because they never made it clear to themselves or others what that was. It is impossible to hit a target, after all, unless you aim at it. In keeping with this: People are more commonly upset by what they did not even try to do than by the errors they actively committed while engaging with the world.

Hamartia (n.) The flaw that precipitates the destruction of a tragic hero. Hamartia is a noble word, with a fine history (the OED says also that it refers particularly to Aristotle’s Poetics). If you have any decency or soul, please do not use this word to refer to your own weakness for something such as chocolate. also

Con la velocidad de los vientos otoñales y la melancolía de la lluvia de verano, nuestro futuro se me escapó de las manos.

Then Augustus Waters reached into a pocket and pulled out, of all things, a pack of cigarettes. He flipped it open and put a cigarette between his lips. “Are you serious?” I asked. “You think that’s cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing.” “Which whole thing?” he asked, turning to me. The cigarette dangled unlit from the unsmiling corner of his mouth. “The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? SUCKS. Totally disappointing. Totally.

I draw my eyes over his face, eyes, cheek, nose, lips, chin. Every part of him is flawless. Like a painting or a sculpture. I saw Michelangelo’s David once and I think Lee Jaehyun is more beautiful than that slab of perfectly-shaped marble.

In the original Greek, one of the meanings of sin [hamartia] is simply “to miss the mark.” Now, imagine you’ve gone to confession, and the priest says to you, “Confess your sins.” Imagine that this priest even accuses you of being a sinner; imagine how that would feel in your mind and heart, to be considered a moral failure. Now imagine instead how you’d feel if that priest were to say, “So, tell me, how have you missed the mark in your life?” There’s an enormous difference in how these two interpretations of sin are held in our hearts, in our minds, in our bodies. If we understand that sin means to miss the mark, it’s not so personal and damning.

Are you serious?” I asked. “You think that’s cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing.” “Which whole thing?” he asked, turning to me. The cigarette dangled unlit from the unsmiling corner of his mouth. “The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? Sucks. Totally disappointing. Totally.

• “Are you serious?” I asked. “You think that’s cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing.” “Which whole thing?” he asked, turning to me. The cigarette dangled unlit from the unsmiling corner of his mouth. “The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? Sucks. Totally disappointing. Totally.

and then he broke down, just for one moment, his sob roaring impotent like a clap of thunder unaccompanied by lightning, the terrible ferocity that amateurs in the field of suffering might mistake for weakness. Then he pulled me to him and, his face inches from mine, resolved, “I’ll fight it. I’ll fight it for you. Don’t you worry about me, Hazel Grace. I’m okay. I’ll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time.” I was crying. But even then he was strong, holding me tight so that I could see the sinewy muscles of his arms wrapped around me as he said, “I’m sorry. You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. I promise,” and smiled his crooked smile. He kissed my forehead, and then I felt his powerful chest deflate just a little. “I guess I had a hamartia after all.

Whilst the world will be whole, and refuses to be disparted, we seek to act partially, to sunder, to appropriate; for example,—to gratify the senses, we sever the pleasure of the senses from the needs of the character. The ingenuity of man has always been dedicated to the solution of one problem,—how to detach the sensual sweet, the sensual strong, the sensual bright, &c., from the moral sweet, the moral deep, the moral fair; that is, again, to contrive to cut clean off this upper surface so thin as to leave it bottomless; to get a one end, without an other end.

they all stem from the primal fault, which is idolatry, worshipping that which is not God as if it were. Second, they all show the telltale marks of the consequent fault, which is subhuman behavior, that is, the failure fully to reflect the image of God, that missing the mark as regards full, free, and genuine humanness for which the New Testament’s regular word is hamartia, “sin.” (Sin, we note, is not the breaking of arbitrary rules; rather, the rules are the thumbnail sketches of different types of dehumanizing behavior.) Third, it is perfectly possible, and it really does seem to happen in practice, that this idolatry and dehumanization become so endemic in the life and chosen behavior of an individual, and indeed of groups, that unless there is a specific turning away from such a way of life, those who persist are conniving at their own ultimate dehumanization. This

hamartia

hamartia in his character. The fatal flaw,

We're all in the race of chasing something beautiful. We're all in the thirst of finding beauty not knowing it shines beneath the core of our soul. We're all barmecides believing in eviternity. We're invidious to ourselves, gorgonizing ourselves. We're all forgetting to dulcorate. We're crying kelds of optimism. We're deracinating ourselves from treasure boxes made of love. We're all in the race of being splendiferous. We're all warlords of the nation we have inside of our brain, always at war, always at love. We're iridescenting the future as if it will stop at some point. We're eager, eager for eucatastrophes, even when we see a wildly present flowing in front of us. We're the ones that treat each other like deadwoods and we're also the ones that feel beautiful with each other. Love seems mellifluous and we are all polyhistors, spreading the fact that love is sempiternal. We elucidate love and call it beautiful and we also call it the most painful thing ever. We all exist in cerulean skies and divagate the world as if we have no aim. We'll soon drown in this maelstrom and become lacunas in the world. We're pestiferous of love and we survive in a hamartia. We suffer from phobophobia. But then it will be us, the zealots, the ones who'll feel life is still beautiful, no matter if the people you love, leave you. Learn to move on, or learn to fall for the right person.

Tell her that if a demon really came to me, as Nietzsche once imagined, and told me that I would have to live this existence over and over again without any change at all, I would embrace him and demand another cycle. I would gladly lock this choice for the circle of eternity. I am so glad I met you, Munazah, even though you weren’t. I’d let you drive me mad every time. Munazah the nymph! Munazah, my hamartia.

My dear Steerforth, what is the matter?" "I wish with all my soul I had been better guided!" he exclaimed. "I wish with all my soul I could guide myself better!

At the heart of all tragedy, the Greeks saw a phenomenon they called hamartia: a fatal error born of unavoidable ignorance. Combined with a fundamental moral flaw, hamartia inevitably led on to destruction. For the Greeks, humans were cursed not just with mortality of the flesh, but also hamartia-driven mortality of the spirit. Hamartia was the Gods being Divine Jerks, randomly toying with human lives for their own pleasure, through cat-and-mouse games the latter could not hope to win.

I do not want to be your friend, Raphael. I do not want to watch sunrises and think of you. I do not want to close my eyes to go to sleep and see the image of your mouth when you smile. I do not want to spend a five-hour flight daydreaming about your eyes or the sound of your voice or the way you say my name. I do not want it. And yet… all of these things I have done just today.

Like many great works of theater, I believe America is simultaneously a riotous comedy and a heartbreaking tragedy. Our hamartia, our fatal flaw, is racism. It haunts us every day.

Jetzt, wo sie aus dem schwimmenden Paradies entkommen sind, wollen sie nicht mehr zurück', hatte Talm geantwortet. 'Die Verlockungen des Bösen.' 'Das griechische Wort, das in der Bibel mit Sünde übersetzt ist', sagte Sebastiaan, 'lautet hamartia. Hamartia bedeutet: Das Ziel verfehlen. Die Griechen gebrauchten das Wort für einen Bogenschützen, der daneben schoss. Hamartia. Sünde ist also nichts anderes als: Schlecht zielen. Stell dir vor, ein Bogenschütze schießt daneben und sucht die Ursache dafür außerhalb seiner selbst- dann wird es nie etwas mit ihm, dann wird es immer schlimmer. Wir dürfen das Böse also nicht außerhalb unserer selbst suchen.

Fucking hell. Thank fuck they don’t speak English.

we’d had a go at their music but who didn’t? Their fashion sense. Again, who didn’t? At their make-up. There was metro-sexual and there was…well, them.

There’s no risk of being outed or caught or anything else that goes with maintaining any kind of romantic entanglement while being an idol.

I’m not gay, I know I’m not.