Such an interesting word, matter.
No matter what we do we seem to be awfully concerned with matter.
Can Poetry Matter, asks Mr Gioia.
Says the theosophist:
The problem with modern scientific thought is that it assumes and insists life begins with matter.
Mind over matter.
I suppose what we like about matter is that it can be measured.
Or can it ?
What’s the matter, we say to one another.
As a matter of fact !
Matter, matter, matter, she muttered.
A common way of defining matter is 'anything that has mass and occupies volume.'
In practice however there is no single correct scientific meaning of "matter," as different fields use the term in different and sometimes incompatible ways.
No matter where you go, there you are, says Confucius.
It’s a matter of life and death, we say.
It’s a matter of degree, we assure one another.
Says James Hillman:
A distant friend has titled her book of poems:
A local friend has titled his book of poems:
As if the Whirled Really Mattered.
The earliest usage of the word 'matter' referred to the living material
found in the trunk of a tree.
Tree of Life, we hardly know you.
Does it matter ?
Yo no se.
So long as we get to he heart of the matter.