36 Completion Quotes

This book is an agglomeration of lean-tos and annexes and there is no knowing how big the next addition will be, or where it will be put. At any point, I can call the book finished or unfinished.

In your eyes the light the heat in your eyes I am complete in your eyes I see the doorway to a thousand churches in your eyes the resolution of all the fruitless searches in your eyes I see the light and the heat in your eyes oh, I want to be that complete I want to touch the light the heat I see in your eyes.

Better late than never.

Two hands upon the breast, And labour's done; Two pale feet crossed in rest, The race is won.

The Manifestation of Nuit is at an end.

How long Do works endure? As long As they are not completed.

I was very much aware that we still had to get safely back down the mountain again and that was quite an important factor. I really felt the most excitement when we finally got to the bottom of the mountain again and it was all behind us.

The blossom on the Great Tree was shining like flame. All the birds were flying in the air and singing. Then he smiled, and nodded to Parish, and went off with the shepherd. He was going to learn about sheep, and the high pasturages, and look at a wider sky, and walk ever further and further towards the Mountains, always uphill. Beyond that I cannot guess what became of him. Even little Niggle in his old home could glimpse the Mountains far away, and they got into the borders of his picture; but what they are really like, and what lies beyond them, only those can say who have climbed them.

One worthwhile task carried to a successful conclusion is worth half-a-hundred half-finished tasks.

I would be willing to live and be farther serviceable to God and his people; but my work is done. Yet God will be with his people.

Two hands upon the breast, And labour's done; Two pale feet crossed in rest, The race is won.

Before long he found that the path on which he had started had disappeared, and the bicycle was rolling along over a marvellous turf. It was green and close; and yet he could see every blade distinctly. He seemed to remember having seen or dreamed of that sweep of grass somewhere or other. The curves of the land were familiar somehow. Yes: the ground was becoming level, as it should, and now, of course, it was beginning to rise again. A great green shadow came between him and the sun. Niggle looked up, and fell off his bicycle. Before him stood the Tree, his Tree, finished. If you could say that of a Tree that was alive, its leaves opening, its branches growing and bending in the wind that Niggle had so often felt or guessed, and had so often failed to catch. He gazed at the Tree, and slowly he lifted his arms and opened them wide. 'It's a gift!' he said. He was referring to his art, and also to the result; but he was using the word quite literally.

Some of us don't suffer from completion anxiety

Indeed, the realisation of the paramatman, the supreme soul, within our antaratman, our inner individual soul, is in a state of absolute completion. We cannot think of it as non- existent and depending on our limited powers for its gradual construction. If our relation with the divine were all a thing of our own making, how should we rely on it as true, and how should it lend us support? Yes, we must know that within us we have that where space and time cease to rule and where the links of evolution are merged in unity. In that everlasting abode of the ataman, the soul, the revelation of the paramatman, the supreme soul, is already complete. Therefore the Upanishads say: He who knows Brahman, the true, the all-conscious, and the infinite as hidden in the depths of the soul, which is the supreme sky (the inner sky of consciousness), enjoys all objects of desire in union with the all-knowing Brahman.

He wasn't done yet.

Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.

In hell there is no other punishment than to begin over and over again the tasks left unfinished in your lifetime.

The merit of an action lies in finishing it to the end.

A work is never completed except by some accident such as weariness, satisfaction, the need to deliver, or death: for, in relation to who or what is making it, it can only be one stage in a series of inner transformations.

A poem is never finished; it's always an accident that puts a stop to it-that is to say, gives it to the public.

The road to hell is paved with works-in-progress.

Do not turn back when you are just at the goal.

Inscribe all human effort with one word, Artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still. And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now.

'I'll polish it off myself.'

A dripping wet canvas covered the entire floor. ... There was complete silence. ... Pollock looked at the painting. Then, unexpectedly, he picked up can and paint brush and started to move around the canvas. It was as if he suddenly realized the painting was not finished. His movements, slow at first, gradually became faster and more dance like as he flung black, white, and rust colored paint onto the canvas. He completely forgot that Lee and I were there; he did not seem to hear the click of the camera shutter. ... My photography session lasted as long as he kept painting, perhaps half an hour. In all that time, Pollock did not stop. How could one keep up this level of activity? Finally, he said 'This is it.'

To act is to rest.

Better late than never.