Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Discrete. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Discrete Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Jasmine Warga,Bill Mollison,Tom Robbins,Bryce Courtenay,Albert Einstein for you to enjoy and share.
We're suicidal, not innumerate.
Most biologists, (says Vogel, 1981) seem to have heard of the boundary layer, but they have a fuzzy notion that it is a discrete region, rather than the discrete notion that it is a fuzzy region.
Private and primitive and a bit on the funky and frightening
As a small child I had discovered that only two places are available to those who wish to remain concealed. The choices are to be a nonentity or an exception. You either disappear into a plebeian background or move forward to where most others fear to follow.
The series of integers is obviously an invention of the human mind, a self-created tool which simplifies the ordering of certain sensory experiences.
We're a feeling, an awareness encased here
Each of us describes our existence by means of objects which are indifferent to us, which survive us, and which are then thrown back into the common stock from which they are soon gathered again and ascribed other roles in other circumstances.
If you were able to see us as separate beings, you would see us as approximately one hundred beings.
I'm a very secretive person.
most events are unutterable, consummating themselves in a sphere where word has never trod, and more unutterable than them all are works of art, whose life endures by the side of our own that passes away.
That the divided but contiguous particles of bodies may be separated from one another is a matter of observation; and, in the particles that remain undivided, our minds are able to distinguish yet lesser parts, as is mathematically demonstrated.
Like a squash ball, locked inside an all-glass court, played in a never ending Sisyphean rally between two invisible and equally able opponents, that's what the Digital State first felt like. A descriptor in search of a winning shot, to break the deadlock, to set it free.
Wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration,
I focus on the most important form of innumeracy in everyday life, statistical innumeracy
that is, the inability to reason about uncertainties and risk.
Alone, but not alone
In this world one must have a name; it prevents confusion, even when it does not establish identity. Some, though, are known by numbers, which also seem inadequate distinctions.
What we really are seems much more like an obscure system of energy out of which choices and visible acts of will emerge at intervals in ways which are often unclear and often dependent on the condition of the system in between moments of choice.
The Transparent Society:
DECALOGUE, n. A series of commandments, ten in number - just enough to permit an intelligent selection for observance, but not enough to embarrass the choice.
Anonymity is the fame of the future.
Megadeath: a unit of measure equal to one million human casualites
I am a chatty person, but colossally discreet.
The only catalogue of this world's goods that really counts is that which we keep in the silence of the mind.
Anonymous people living anonymous lives.
Name the different kinds of people,' said Miss Lupescu. 'Now.'
Bod thought for a moment. 'The living,' he said. 'Er. The dead.' He stopped. Then, '... Cats?' he offered, uncertainly.
Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.
Complexity is the enemy of clarity
We are finite, we are temporal, and we are embodied.
Snowflakes, leaves, humans, plants, raindrops, stars, molecules, microscopic entities all come in communities. The singular cannot in reality exist.
People clustered in twos or threes or fours, I have come to believe, both constitute creatures in and of themselves and, together as tandems or triunes or packs, form another sort of myriad-minded creature whose actions are far from predictable.
Computers rely on the one and the zero to represent all things. This distinction between something and nothing - this pivotal separation between being and nonbeing - is quite fundamental and underlies many Creation myths.
Formal symbolic representation of qualitative entities is doomed to its rightful place of minor significance in a world where flowers and beautiful women abound.
I am a very discreet human when it comes to other people.
Everything in the Universe, throughout all its kingdoms, is conscious: i.e., endowed with a consciousness of its own kind and on its own plane of perception.
This household is like a pocketful of coins that jingled together for a time, but now have been slapped on a counter to pay a price. The pocket empties out, the coins venture back into the infinite circulation of currency, separate, invisible, and untraceable.
There are two laws discreteNot reconciled,Law for man, and law for thing.
There is nothing more visible than what is secret, and nothing more manifest than what is minute.
Every atom in creation may be said to be acquainted with and married to every other, but with universal union there is a division sufficient in degree for the purposes of the most intense individuality.
And so it is inevitable that the day has come when we write about privacy with such nostalgia, analysing it as we would some unearthed fossil of a creature our human eyes had never fallen on.
An average human looks without seeing, listens without hearing, touches without feeling, eats without tasting, moves without physical awareness, inhales without awareness of odour or fragrance, and talks without thinking.
Numberless are the world's wonders
A computation is a process that obeys finitely describable rules.
Life consists of rare, isolated moments of the greatest significance, and of innumerable many intervals, during which at best the silhouettes of those moments hover about us.
Number is the Word but is not utterance it is wave and light, though no one sees it it is rhythm and music, though no one hears it. Its variations are limitless and yet it is immutable. Each form of life is a particular reverberation of Number.
Every object in the world can pass from a closed, silent existence to an oral state, open to appropriation by society, for there is no law, whether natural or not, which forbids talking about things
There are no individuals in the world only fragments of families
We are exquisite souls housed in physical bodies.
Any sufficiently crisp question can be answered by a single binary digit-0 or 1, yes or no.
999 ... I can explain it in a minute
Numbers, furthermore as archetypal structural constants of the collective unconscious, possess a dynamic, active aspect which is especially important to keep in mind. It is not what we can do with numbers but what they do to our consciousness that is essential.
The human features and countenance, although composed of but some ten parts or little more, are so fashioned that among so many thousands of men there are no two in existence who cannot be distinguished from one another.
(T)here exist friendships which develop their own inner duration, their own eons of transparent time.
We are nothing but a few atoms arranged in an intricate organized way.
When I struggle to be terse, I end by being obscure.
It was a bar code of a property, generic, ordinary and anonymous.
Lists are how I parse and manage the world.
The guest list, if there had been one, was a little like a census.
As finite creatures who think and feel, we can create islands of meaning in the sea of information.
Before abstraction everything is one, but one like chaos; after abstraction everything is united again, but this union is a free binding of autonomous, self-determined beings. Out of a mob a society has developed, chaos has been transformed into a manifold world.
I'm a private kind of person.
Byte or Get Bitten
I'm a private person.
We are only syllables of the perfect Word.
Discreet women have neither eyes nor eares.
[Discreet women have neither eyes nor ears.]
Everyday is a mystery
Well take care of the counting.
What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many that people infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism of our being is subject to merest accident.
I encounter millions of bodies in my life; of these millions, I may desire some hundreds; but of these hundreds, I love only one.
Every aspect of our lives plays out in two versions: one conscious, which we are constantly aware of, and the other unconscious, which remains hidden from us.
Make something, a kind of object, which as it changes or falls apart (dies as it were) or increases in its parts (grows as it were) offers no clue as to what its state or form or nature was at any previous time. Physical and Metaphysical. Obstinacy. Could this be a useful object?
Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know.
I am always willing to run some hazard of being tedious, in order to be sure that I am perspicuous; and, after taking the utmost pains that I can to be perspicuous, some obscurity may still appear to remain upon a subject, in its own nature extremely abstracted.
In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong.
It is a rare life that remains orderly even in private.
One of the more curious facts about human beings is that they can spend a day of introspection without discovering what is obvious to anyone who has spent a half hour in their company.
Only in the silence of our mind are we One.
Each of us is more than one person, many people, a proliferation of our one self.
In a big city you become a ghost; you walk on the crowded streets and realise that you are a kind of transparent entity; an indistinct being, a thing which is not something!
I prefer to think of the audience as a single living organism with which I am sharing a singular, never-to-be-repeated experience.
I have a keen sense of the oblivious
Not all that counts, can be counted
8.
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'thou single wilt prove none.
How many lives we live in one,
And how much less than one, in all.
Imagine others complexly.
The notion of the infinite variety of detail and the multiplicity of forms is a pleasing one; in complexity are the fringes of beauty, and in variety are generosity and exuberance.
There are no solids. There are no things. There are only interfering and non-interfering patterns operative in pure principle, and principles are eternal.
Brief is this existence, as a visit in a strange house. The path to be pursued is poorly lit by a flickering consciousness.
To be isolated is always to assert oneself numerically; when you assert yourself as one, that is isolation.
Beyond the ten thousand states of mind is the still point. It exists within them all, yet beyond them. It is not affected by them. It gives birth to them. This is the riddle.
I have just been conversing with one man, to whom no weight of adverse experience will make it for a moment appear impossible that thousands of human beings might exercise towards each other the grandest and simplest sentiments, as well as a knot of friends, or a pair of lovers.
A point contains more unknowns than anything else; it need but stir, move, and it may turn into thousands of curves, thousands of bodies. I
In everything continuous and divisible, it is possible to grasp the more, the less, and the equal, and these either in reference to the thing itself, or in relation to us.
Remote from human passions, remote even from the pitiful facts of nature, the generations have gradually created an ordered cosmos [mathematics], where pure thought can dwell in its natural home ...
An entity, whether a person or a thing, requires the independent collection of facts about them and a cross-referencing of these facts through their digital footprint.
As a single atom man is an enigma: as a whole he is a mathematical problem. As an individual he is a free agent, as a species the offspring of necessity.
Life forms illogical patterns. It is haphazard and full of beauties which I try to catch as they fly by, for who knows whether any of them will ever return?
To a mathematician the eleventh means only a single unit: to the bushman who cannot count further than his ten fingers it is an incalculable myriad.
Things are opaque to us, and we are opaque to ourselves.
Change is a digital continuum.
There is a hidden power in details