第一篇：美食、祈禱、戀愛作者ted演講稿

I am a writer.Writing books is my profession but it's more than that, of course.It is also my great lifelong love and fascination.And I don't expect that that's ever going to change.But, that said, something kind of peculiar has happened recently in my life and in my career, which has caused me to have to recalibrate my whole relationship with this work.And the peculiar thing is that I recently wrote this book, this memoir called “Eat, Pray, Love” which, decidedly unlike any of my previous books, went out in the world for some reason, and became this big, mega-sensation, international bestseller thing.The result of which is that everywhere I go now, people treat me like I'm doomed.Seriously--doomed, doomed!Like, they come up to me now, all worried, and they say, “Aren't you afraid--aren't you afraid you're never going to be able to top that? Aren't you afraid you're going to keep writing for your whole life and you're never again going to create a book that anybody in the world cares about at all, ever again?”

So that's reassuring, you know.But it would be worse, except for that I happen to remember that over 20 years ago, when I first started telling people--when I was a teenager--that I wanted to be a writer, I was met with this same kind of, sort of fear-based reaction.And people would say, “Aren't you afraid you're never going to have any success? Aren't you afraid the humiliation of rejection will kill you? Aren't you afraid that you're going to work your whole life at this craft and nothing's ever going to come of it and you're going to die on a scrap heap of broken dreams with your mouth filled with bitter ash of failure?”(Laughter)Like that, you know.The answer--the short answer to all those questions is, “Yes.” Yes, I'm afraid of all those things.And I always have been.And I'm afraid of many many more things besides that people can't even guess at.Like seaweed, and other things that are scary.But, when it comes to writing the thing that I've been sort of thinking about lately, and wondering about lately, is why? You know, is it rational? Is it logical that anybody should be expected to be afraid of the work that they feel they were put on this Earth to do.You know, and what is it specifically about creative ventures that seems to make us really nervous about each other's mental health in a way that other careers kind of don't do, you know? Like my dad, for example, was a chemical engineer and I don't recall once in his 40 years of chemical engineering anybody asking him if he was afraid to be a chemical engineer, you know? It didn't--that chemical engineering block John, how's it going? It just didn't come up like that, you know? But to be fair, chemical engineers as a group haven't really earned a reputation over the centuries for being alcoholic manic-depressives.(Laughter)

We writers, we kind of do have that reputation, and not just writers, but creative people across all genres, it seems, have this reputation for being enormously mentally unstable.And all you have to do is look at the very grim death count in the 20th century alone, of really magnificent creative minds who died young and often at their own hands, you know? And even the ones who didn't literally commit suicide seem to be really undone by their gifts, you know.Norman Mailer, just before he died, last interview, he said “Every one of my books has killed me a little more.” An extraordinary statement to make about your life's work, you know.But we don't even blink when we hear somebody say this because we've heard that kind of stuff for so long and somehow we've completely internalized and accepted collectively this notion that creativity and suffering are somehow inherently linked and that artistry, in the end, will always ultimately lead to anguish.And the question that I want to ask everybody here today is are you guys all cool with that idea? Are you comfortable with that--because you look at it even from an inch away and, you know--I'm not at all comfortable with that assumption.I think it's odious.And I also think it's dangerous, and I don't want to see it perpetuated into the next century.I think it's better if we encourage our great creative minds to live.And I definitely know that, in my case--in my situation--it would be very dangerous for me to start sort of leaking down that dark path of assumption, particularly given the circumstance that I'm in right now in my career.Which is--you know, like check it out, I'm pretty young, I'm only about 40 years old.I still have maybe another four decades of work left in me.And it's exceedingly likely that anything I write from this point forward is going to be judged by the world as the work that came after the freakish success of my last book, right? I should just put it bluntly, because we're all sort of friends here now--it's exceedingly likely that my greatest success is behind me.Oh, so Jesus, what a thought!You know that's the kind of thought that could lead a person to start drinking gin at nine o'clock in the morning, and I don't want to go there.(Laughter)I would prefer to keep doing this work that I love.And so, the question becomes, how? And so, it seems to me, upon a lot of reflection, that the way that I have to work now, in order to continue writing, is that I have to create some sort of protective psychological construct, right? I have to, sort of find some way to have a safe distance between me, as I am writing, and my very natural anxiety about what the reaction to that writing is going to be, from now on.And, as I've been looking over the last year for models for how to do that I've been sort of looking across time, and I've been trying to find other societies to see if they might have had better and saner ideas than we have about how to help creative people, sort of manage the inherent emotional risks of creativity.And that search has led me to ancient Greece and ancient Rome.So stay with me, because it does circle around and back.But, ancient Greece and ancient Rome--people did not happen to believe that creativity came from human beings back then, OK? People believed that creativity was this divine attendant spirit that came to human beings from some distant and unknowable source, for distant and unknowable reasons.The Greeks famously called these divine attendant spirits of creativity “daemons.” Socrates, famously, believed that he had a daemon who spoke wisdom to him from afar.The Romans had the same idea, but they called that sort of disembodied creative spirit a genius.Which is great, because the Romans did not actually think that a genius was a particularly clever individual.They believed that a genius was this, sort of magical divine entity, who was believed to literally live in the walls of an artist's studio, kind of like Dobby the house elf, and who would come out and sort of invisibly assist the artist with their work and would shape the outcome of that work.So brilliant--there it is, right there that distance that I'm talking about--that psychological construct to protect you from the results of your work.And everyone knew that this is how it functioned, right? So the ancient artist was protected from certain things, like, for example, too much narcissism, right? If your work was brilliant you couldn't take all the credit for it, everybody knew that you had this disembodied genius who had helped you.If your work bombed, not entirely your fault, you know? Everyone knew your genius was kind of lame.And this is how people thought about creativity in the West for a really long time.And then the Renaissance came and everything changed, and we had this big idea, and the big idea was let's put the individual human being at the center of the universe above all gods and mysteries, and there's no more room for mystical creatures who take dictation from the divine.And it's the beginning of rational humanism, and people started to believe that creativity came completely from the self of the individual.And for the first time in history, you start to hear people referring to this or that artist as being a genius rather than having a genius.And I got to tell you, I think that was a huge error.You know, I think that allowing somebody, one mere person to believe that he or she is like, the vessel you know, like the font and the essence and the source of all divine, creative, unknowable, eternal mystery is just a smidge too much responsibility to put on one fragile, human psyche.It's like asking somebody to swallow the sun.It just completely warps and distorts egos, and it creates all these unmanageable expectations about performance.And I think the pressure of that has been killing off our artists for the last 500 years.And, if this is true, and I think it is true, the question becomes, what now? Can we do this differently? Maybe go back to some more ancient understanding about the relationship between humans and the creative mystery.Maybe not.Maybe we can't just erase 500 years of rational humanistic thought in one 18 minute speech.And there's probably people in this audience who would raise really legitimate scientific suspicions about the notion of, basically fairies who follow people around rubbing fairy juice on their projects and stuff.I'm not, probably, going to bring you all along with me on this.But the question that I kind of want to pose is--you know, why not? Why not think about it this way? Because it makes as much sense as anything else I have ever heard in terms of explaining the utter maddening capriciousness of the creative process.A process which, as anybody who has ever tried to make something--which is to say basically, everyone here---knows does not always behave rationally.And, in fact, can sometimes feel downright paranormal.I had this encounter recently where I met the extraordinary American poet Ruth Stone, who's now in her 90s, but she's been a poet her entire life and she told me that when she was growing up in rural Virginia, she would be out working in the fields, and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape.And she said it was like a thunderous train of air.And it would come barreling down at her over the landscape.And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet.She knew that she had only one thing to do at that point, and that was to, in her words, “run like hell.” And she would run like hell to the house and she would be getting chased by this poem, and the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and a pencil fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page.And other times she wouldn't be fast enough, so she'd be running and running and running, and she wouldn't get to the house and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it and she said it would continue on across the landscape, looking, as she put it “for another poet.” And then there were these times--this is the piece I never forgot--she said that there were moments where she would almost miss it, right? So, she's running to the house and she's looking for the paper and the poem passes through her, and she grabs a pencil just as it's going through her, and then she said, it was like she would reach out with her other hand and she would catch it.She would catch the poem by its tail, and she would pull it backwards into her body as she was transcribing on the page.And in these instances, the poem would come up on the page perfect and intact but backwards, from the last word to the first.(Laughter)

So when I heard that I was like--that's uncanny, that's exactly what my creative process is like.(Laughter)

That's not all what my creative process is--I'm not the pipeline!I'm a mule, and the way that I have to work is that I have to get up at the same time every day, and sweat and labor and barrel through it really awkwardly.But even I, in my mulishness, even I have brushed up against that thing, at times.And I would imagine that a lot of you have too.You know, even I have had work or ideas come through me from a source that I honestly cannot identify.And what is that thing? And how are we to relate to it in a way that will not make us lose our minds, but, in fact, might actually keep us sane?

And for me, the best contemporary example that I have of how to do that is the musician Tom Waits, who I got to interview several years ago on a magazine assignment.And we were talking about this, and you know, Tom, for most of his life he was pretty much the embodiment of the tormented contemporary modern artist, trying to control and manage and dominate these sort of uncontrollable creative impulses that were totally internalized.But then he got older, he got calmer, and one day he was driving down the freeway in Los Angeles he told me, and this is when it all changed for him.And he's speeding along, and all of a sudden he hears this little fragment of melody, that comes into his head as inspiration often comes, elusive and tantalizing, and he wants it, you know, it's gorgeous, and he longs for it, but he has no way to get it.He doesn't have a piece of paper, he doesn't have a pencil, he doesn't have a tape recorder.So he starts to feel all of that old anxiety start to rise in him like, “I'm going to lose this thing, and then I'm going to be haunted by this song forever.I'm not good enough, and I can't do it.” And instead of panicking, he just stopped.He just stopped that whole mental process and he did something completely novel.He just looked up at the sky, and he said, “Excuse me, can you not see that I'm driving?”(Laughter)“Do I look like I can write down a song right now? If you really want to exist, come back at a more opportune moment when I can take care of you.Otherwise, go bother somebody else today.Go bother Leonard Cohen.”

And his whole work process changed after that.Not the work, the work was still oftentimes as dark as ever.But the process, and the heavy anxiety around it was released when he took the genie, the genius out of him where it was causing nothing but trouble, and released it kind of back where it came from, and realized that this didn't have to be this internalized, tormented thing.It could be this peculiar, wondrous, bizarre collaboration kind of conversation between Tom and the strange, external thing that was not quite Tom.So when I heard that story it started to shift a little bit the way that I worked too, and it already saved me once.This idea, it saved me when I was in the middle of writing “Eat, Pray, Love,” and I fell into one of those, sort of pits of despair that we all fall into when we're working on something and it's not coming and you start to think this is going to be a disaster, this is going to be the worst book ever written.Not just bad, but the worst book ever written.And I started to think I should just dump this project.But then I remembered Tom talking to the open air and I tried it.So I just lifted my face up from the manuscript and I directed my comments to an empty corner of the room.And I said aloud, “Listen you, thing, you and I both know that if this book isn't brilliant that is not entirely my fault, right? Because you can see that I am putting everything I have into this, I don't have anymore than this.So if you want it to be better, then you've got to show up and do your part of the deal.OK.But if you don't do that, you know what, the hell with it.I'm going to keep writing anyway because that's my job.And I would please like the record to reflect today that I showed up for my part of the job.”(Laughter)

Because--(Applause)in the end it's like this, OK--centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa, people used to gather for these moonlight dances of sacred dance and music that would go on for hours and hours, until dawn.And they were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals and they were terrific, right? But every once in a while, very rarely, something would happen, and one of these performers would actually become transcendent.And I know you know what I'm talking about, because I know you've all seen, at some point in your life, a performance like this.It was like time would stop, and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal and he wasn't doing anything different than he had ever done, 1,000 nights before, but everything would align.And all of a sudden, he would no longer appear to be merely human.He would be lit from within, and lit from below and all lit up on fire with divinity.And when this happened, back then, people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by it's name.They would put their hands together and they would start to chant, “Allah, Allah, Allah, God God, God.” That's God, you know.Curious historical footnote--when the Moors invaded southern Spain, they took this custom with them and the pronunciation changed over the centuries from “Allah, Allah, Allah,” to “Ole, ole, ole,” which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances.In Spain, when a performer has done something impossible and magic, “Allah, ole, ole, Allah, magnificent, bravo,” incomprehensible, there it is--a glimpse of God.Which is great, because we need that.But, the tricky bit comes the next morning, for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers that it's Tuesday at 11 a.m., and he's no longer a glimpse of God.He's just an aging mortal with really bad knees, and maybe he's never going to ascend to that height again.And maybe nobody will ever chant God's name again as he spins, and what is he then to do with the rest of his life? This is hard.This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make in a creative life.But maybe it doesn't have to be quite so full of anguish if you never happened to believe, in the first place, that the most extraordinary aspects of your being came from you.But maybe if you just believed that they were on loan to you from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life to be passed along when you're finished, with somebody else.And, you know, if we think about it this way it starts to change everything.This is how I've started to think, and this is certainly how I've been thinking in the last few months as I've been working on the book that will soon be published, as the dangerously, frighteningly overanticipated follow up to my freakish success.And what I have to, sort of keep telling myself when I get really psyched out about that, is, don't be afraid.Don't be daunted.Just do your job.Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be.If your job is to dance, do your dance.If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case decides to let some sort of wonderment be glimpsed, for just one moment through your efforts, then “Ole!” And if not, do your dance anyhow.And “Ole!” to you, nonetheless.I believe this and I feel that we must teach it.“Ole!” to you, nonetheless, just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness to keep showing up.Thank you.(Applause)Thank you.(Applause)

June Cohen: Ole!(Applause)

第二篇：《美食、祈禱和戀愛》經典臺詞

不要通過你的頭腦看世界 要通過你的心

：你是什么時候想要孩子的

：不記得了 不過我結婚以前就有那個盒子了 ：什么盒子

：那是小姑娘的玩意 我說了你會笑話我的 ：我會笑話你 但你還是要告訴我

：好吧 在床底下 我一直朝里面放嬰兒用品 直到安迪愿意做個父親

：真令人感動（開了句玩笑然后嘆氣）我也有個這樣的盒子 只不過里面都是國家地理雜志和THE TIMES報的旅游版 都是我一生想去的地方 ：LIZ 懷孕就像把紋身紋在臉上 一定要先想好了

我每一刻都在積極的創造這一生活 為何還感覺自己和這一生活格格不入

：我愛上你了

：我不是你想象的那樣 只是你的幻想

：這是胡說 你是真實的 你的傷疤 你的才能 我開一家三流酒吧你也接受這就是我要做的我喜歡你的痛 喜歡我們在一起的時候 我能趕走你的痛苦 當我看著你的眼睛 就聽見海豚拍手的聲音 ：他不知道的是 我消失在我愛的人之中 我是可滲透的薄膜 只要我愛你 你就能擁有我的一切 我的錢 我的時間 我的身體 我的狗 我的狗的錢 我會承擔你的債務 還會給你各種你從未具備的優秀品質 把這些都給你 還會給你更多 直到我身心疲憊 唯一能讓我康復的 就是愛上一個人

我只是不習慣 一個陌生人比我更能看透我的內心 所以才故意說你矮

嚴格來說我并非愛上他 我只是跳出自己的婚姻 掉進大衛的懷抱 就像卡通片中的人 從高臺上跳下 掉進一小杯水中 徹底消失

：你為何成為素食主義者 ：因為有次看見宰牛

：對于他來說很痛苦啊 那你呢 ：我可以冥想

：LIZ 記得幾年前你全身心的去裝修廚房 一心只想著做好飯 做個好妻子 ：我只是盡力維持

：那我覺得念經和冥想也是一回事 只是形式不同

不希望你不在身邊 讓我想你嗎？

首先是你所愛的人給你一劑毒品 愛與激情的情感毒品 很快 你就像癮君子一樣 渴望得到對方的關注 得不到的話 就會生病 煩躁 憎恨當初讓你服下感情毒品的人現在再也不給你毒品了 以前卻是免費給你毒品 然后你會變得憔悴 哪怕是為了讓對方再給你一次毒品你也愿意付出一切 你愛的人現在開始討厭你 他看你的眼神 就像看著陌生人 可你又不能責怪

他 看看自己 都沒個人樣了 連自己都認不出自己了 這時就到了熱戀的最后階段 自暴自棄

：你想離開一年？ ：知道我今天突然是什么感覺嗎 沒有激情 沒有活力 沒有信仰 沒有熱情 什么都沒有 什么時候都是這種感覺 這樣我感到害怕 這簡直比死亡還可怕 難道我一輩子就做這種人嗎 ：這很正常 20多歲的時候戀愛 結婚 30多歲的時候忙家里的瑣事 突然有一天就想 這不是我想要的生活 然后婚姻出現危機 受到傷害 然后去找心理醫生 卻不能思考一下 ：我不需要思考 我需要改變

：這里有很多能幫助你的人 你有愛你的朋友和家人

：你能感受到我對你的愛 對你的幫助嗎 什么都沒有 我沒有一點生命力 我要去意大利 ：為什么要去意大利呢 ：你中午吃的什么 ：沙拉吧

：沒錯 我以前有吃飯的欲望 生活的欲望 而現在卻沒了 我想能找到自己迷戀的東西 語言 冰淇淋 意大利面 什么都行 ：你這話就像是個孩子 ：我一直就像孩子 自從15歲以來 不是在談戀愛 就是在分手 連兩周的單身時間都沒有 來處理自己的事情

：我一生的回憶 都裝在這些箱子里了

：戀戀不舍的人多了 但很少有幾個再回來找

：嘿 如果你留下來 我們每晚去吃印度菜 ：你從未請求我留下來

我以前責怪你 也有一部分是出于嫉妒心 我留戀我的老公 工作 孩子 不過我真想出去走走 我佩服你的選擇 去吧

意大利有個很好笑的老笑話 說一個窮人每天都到教堂 在一個圣人的雕像面前祈禱 “圣人啊 行行好 行行好 你就讓我中彩票吧” 被激怒的圣人最終忍不住顯靈 向下看著祈禱的窮人說 “孩子 那你也該買張彩票吧”

：我覺得很內疚 來羅馬三周了 除了學幾個意大利詞就是吃 ：你覺得內疚 因為你是美國人 你們不懂得快樂 ：你說什么

：是真的 美國人懂得娛樂 但不懂得快樂 你的麻煩就在于你是美國人 工作辛苦 累死累活的 周末回到家 就知道穿著睡衣看電視 你們不懂得快樂 需要有人提醒 你們看到廣告上說 “周末就要喝啤酒” 你們就想 “對啊 我要去買幾瓶” 然后把酒都喝了 第二天醒來頭昏腦脹 但是意大利人不需要提醒 如果我們看見廣告上說 “你今天要休息一會兒” 我們會想 “這我知道” 因此我們才打算中午休息一會兒 去你家勾引你老婆 我們稱之為 “無所事事的快樂 我們對此最在行了” 你不能這樣說意大利語 不要用你的嘴說 要用你的手說

每個城市的人都有自己的風格 比如倫敦人的風格是什么 我覺得是保守 斯德哥爾摩人的風格是什么 這還用問？ 隨大流唄 紐約人呢 事業心或者瑣碎 羅馬人什么風格 嗯~這個問題

要好好想想 性

：你是什么特點 我看不出來 ：這個嘛 可能是 首先是女人 我是個孝順女兒 然后 妻子 我做的不好 女朋友 做的也不好 我的特點就是作家

：但這是你的職業 不能代表你的人 或許你正在尋找自我的過程中

：我戀愛了 愛上了我的比薩 你看起來要和比薩分手了 怎么了 ：我不能吃

：怎么不能吃 這可是NAPLES的比薩 不吃還有天理嗎

：我也想吃 不過我胖了10斤 我都長了 在這兒 該用什么詞來形容 ：贅肉 我也有贅肉

：我剛剛還松開扣子看自己長了多少贅肉 ：我來問你 所有看見你脫衣服的男人中 ：也沒幾個

：那無所謂 有一個人讓你滾嗎 有一個人轉身就走嗎 ：沒有 ：因為男人不在乎 看你脫了衣服 他燒高香還來不及呢 我再也不愿每天早上醒來 拼命回憶昨天自己吃的東西 盤算著自己又能長幾斤肉 責怪自己怎么管不住自己的嘴 我現在只管吃 我不是為了長胖 只是不想再有內疚感 因此我要吃了這份比薩 然后看一場足球賽 明天我們結伴逛街 買條更肥大的褲子

我們能不能承認感情遇到危機 然后繼續堅持下去？我們承認經常吵架 很少做愛了 但我們卻不希望失去對方 這樣我們就能生活在一起 雖然煩惱 但也慶幸沒有分離

親愛的大衛 我們有段時間沒聯系了 這讓我有了思考的時間 記得你說過 我們應該不幸福的生活在一起 這樣就能幸福 很長時間以來 我一直是這么做的 希望能維持下去 不過一位朋友有天帶我去了一個好地方 奧古斯都遺址 原本是奧古斯都大帝為自己建造的陵墓 異教徒入侵的時候 把陵墓和其他一切都洗劫一空 奧古斯都大帝 古羅馬的第一位偉大皇帝 怎么可能料到 羅馬帝國 他眼中的天下 會被洗劫呢 “在中世紀 有人到這里偷走了皇帝的骨灰 在12世紀成了一個城堡 后來成了斗牛場 之后成了儲存煙花的地方 現在成了流浪漢的廁所” 這是羅馬最安靜 孤獨的地方 城市的周圍數百年間都發展起來了 這里就像是不愿忘懷的一處傷口 一處心痛 因為它曾讓你傷得很深 我們都希望能保持原樣 能接受煩惱的生活 只是因為我們害怕改變 害怕變得更糟 但當我看到這個地方 看到其歷經的滄桑 被用于各種用途 被燒毀 被洗劫 但依然屹立不倒 于是我明白 我的經歷雖然滄桑 但人間正道是滄桑 只是不能沉浸于以前的滄桑 經歷滄桑是好事 滄桑才能帶來變化 奧古斯都遺址讓我明白 即使是在永恒之城羅馬 也要去面對永恒的改變 我們不應該再廝守下去 那只是因為我們擔心分開會更痛苦

：不就是愛上一個人嗎 ：我很想他

：那就想唄 想他的時候就對他表達出來 然后放在一邊

來印度的收獲可以總結為一句話 上帝在你身上的體現就是你

一種中間狀態 生活在邊緣狀態 不愿過舒適的居家生活 而是去尋找啟示

你現在害怕吧 我理解 你不想失去自我 愛是令人害怕的、危險的 我也經歷過 我每天祈禱 但是老公還是對我不好 我只能離開他 這就是他打我留下的傷痕 用摩托車頭盔打的 我的女兒 求著我和他離婚 說這話的時候 她只有四歲 別覺得對不起他 人人都需要愛情 愛讓人失去理智 在戀愛的初期都是這樣的 怎么愛都愛不夠 甚至像你這樣弄出病來 即使是我 開始戀愛的時候也是這樣 也失去了自我

有時候 因為愛而失去平衡 也是生活平衡的表現

在最后 我相信了“探索的物理學” 這種力量和萬有引力一樣是真實存在的 探索物理學的原理是 只要你能勇敢的放棄熟悉的一切（不管放棄的是你喜歡的還是憎恨的）開始探索真理的歷程（也包括心理上的歷程）只要你把歷程中的見聞都能視為線索 只要你把沿途見到的人都當做老師 最重要的是 只要你能夠面對、原諒自己不好的方面 那么你就會探索到真理

第三篇：《美食祈禱和戀愛》觀后感

電影 | 《美食、祈禱和戀愛》觀后感

周日，難得清閑，又一次重溫了朱莉婭·羅伯茨主演的《美食、祈禱和戀愛》。已不記得是第幾次回看這部影片了，每一次看完都有一股暖流溢遍全身，周期性的喪就這樣被治愈。

記得初見《美食、祈禱和戀愛》時，就是被它散文一樣的標題所吸引的。影片講述了30+的女主人公LIZ在厭倦了沒有激情和期待的婚姻生活后，選擇離婚踏上了尋找自我的發現之旅。

民以食為天，第一站去了意大利。跟當地帥哥學習意大利語，享受美味的意面、披薩，體驗慢節奏的意式生活，感受家庭成員間相互關愛的溫馨之情??她有份參與其中，覺得是自己是世界最幸福的女孩，找回了對世俗生活的愉悅感。

第二站去了印度。在小男友大衛皈依的印度古魯那里靜修、冥想，期間遇上了恐婚的17歲印度女孩桑迪和因醉駕撞死自己兒子的德州男子理查，在大家相互慰藉的過程，她明白了，她不是圣母瑪麗亞，她只是她而已。泅過自己內心那條潛滿短吻鱷的護城河之后，一直以來的焦躁、迷茫和痛苦漸漸釋然。

第三站去了巴厘島。因為六個月前，在巴厘島上的巫醫賴恩告訴她，她會經歷兩次感情的挫折、并人財兩空，周游世界后會再次回到這里。所以這次她是來向賴恩尋找答案的。在這里她遇上了同樣因感情受挫而離婚的巴西寶石商人費利佩，兩人以游客和導游的身份，輕松而自然地相處著，不經意間開出了LIZ想要的愛情之花，最終，在戀愛與寧靜的生活之間達成了完美的平衡。

電影改編自伊麗莎白·吉爾伯特的自傳體小說《一輩子做女孩》，以女主人公LIZ的心路歷程和人生意義的尋找旅程為主線，貫穿了意大利、印度、巴厘島的美景、美食和眾多人物背后不同的人生經歷和故事，畫面唯美、情感細膩，寓意深刻，猶如一篇形散而神不散的散文，令人常看常新。

閑來無事，你可以把關注點放在美食、美景、與異域風情的風俗上面，只是當一部游歷美景品嘗美食順帶再談一個浪漫戀愛的小資情調試浪漫電影來消遣時光。

想靜下心來細細品味，你就把關注點更多的放在影片要傳達的精神層面上。拔開浮華的表面，這是一部對于人生、信仰和愛情進行自我發問的影片，片中的某些臺詞會不經意間觸動我們內心的柔軟，讓我想起了張淑芬的《遇見未知的自己》。

確實，生活中沒有誰是容易的，是人都會有不堪的往事，解不開的心結。有些事于你要歷盡千帆，于別人卻可以原地重生，關鍵還是看我們是否能夠正視和接納一個不完美的自己。

我們永遠都難以知道自己真正該怎么活、真正渴望的是什么。所以一次次我們錯過了隱身于思想深處的另一個自己。總在嘗試著改變些什么，可是生活會毫不保留地告誡我們，既然改變不了，就唯有適應，就地臣服。人生就像一場戲，為了向世界竭力證明自己的價值，每個人都在扮演著各種不同的角色，但所有的一切最終追求的莫過于滿足自己內心的“愛、喜悅、和平”的感覺罷了。其實易地而處，活于世上，我們真的不需要對世界作出任何解釋，世界只接受我們對自己的評價罷了。

走過萬水千山，只為找一條走回心間的路??

最后，用《遇見未知的自己》里智慧老人寫給女主人公若菱的一段話結束本篇觀后感：“親愛的，外面沒有別人，只有自己。外面沒有別人，所有的外在事物都是我們內心投射出來的結果??每個發生在自己身上的事件都是一個禮物，只是有的禮物包裝得很難看，讓我們心懷怨恨或心存恐懼；因為，它可以是一個災難，也可以是一個禮物。但如果能帶著信心，給它一點時間，耐心、細心地拆開這個慘不忍睹的外殼包裝，你會享受到它內在蘊含著的豐盛美好。”

經典臺詞

“我的經歷雖然滄桑，但人間正道是滄桑。只是不能沉浸于以前的滄桑。經歷滄桑是好事，滄桑才能帶來變化。奧古斯遺址讓我明白，即使在永恒之城羅馬，也要去面對永恒的改變。我們不應該在廝守下去，那只是因為我們擔心分開會更痛苦。”

“我知道你心情不好，但你正處于轉折點。這不是壞事，而這里的環境正適合你去轉變。不就是想他嗎？想他的時候就對他表達出來，然后放在一邊。只要你摒棄雜念，別再考慮這個人和你失敗的婚姻，就把你的思想騰出來了。這時候會發生什么呢？上帝就會占據其中，帶給你很多無法想象的愛，我覺得你將來有能力愛上整個世界。”

“來印度的收獲可以總結為一句話，上帝在你身上的體現就是你。上帝可沒興趣看一個信徒的長相和舉止。輕輕靜靜地走路，臉上帶著圣潔微笑的人，那是圣母瑪利亞，不是凡人。上帝在我身上的體現，就是我。”

“巴厘人知道，要保持幸福，就要時時刻刻知道自己在哪里。這里是最平衡的地方，就在天堂和人間的交匯處。既不過于神圣，也不過于世俗。否則的話，生活就太累了。失去了平衡，就失去了力量。在早晨，你做在印度學的冥想，非常的虔誠。白天呢，就在巴厘島玩，到了下午，就來找我。到晚上，你做新的冥想。很簡單，就是安靜的坐下微笑。在臉上笑，還要在心里笑，甚至要在肝臟里笑。”

“有時候，因為愛而失去平衡，也是生活平衡的表現。”

第四篇：祈禱戀愛經典語錄

美好的愛情總是我們向往的，以下是小編整理的祈禱戀愛經典語錄，歡迎閱讀參考！

1、這世界上有一個人是永遠等著你的，不管是什么時候，不管你是在什么地方，反正你知道，總有這樣一個人。

2、放棄該放棄的是無奈，放棄不該放棄的是無能；不放棄該放棄的是無知，不放棄不該放棄的是執著。

3、其實快樂要有悲傷作陪，雨過應該就有天晴。如果雨后還是雨，如果憂傷之后還是憂傷．請讓我們從容面對這離別之后的離別。微笑地去尋找一個不可能出現的你！

4、親愛的，請不要欺騙善良的女孩。這個世界上，善良的女孩太少。

5、是啊！曾經有一份真誠的愛情擺在我的面前，但是我沒有珍惜，等到了失去的時候才后悔莫及，塵世間最痛苦的事莫過于此。如果上天能夠給我一個再來一次的機會，我會對那個女孩子說三個字：我愛你。如果非要在這份愛上加個期限，我希望是一萬年！

6、有些事情本身我們無法控制，只好控制自己。

7、在這千萬人之中，遇見你所遇見的人；于千萬年之中，時間的無涯荒野里，沒有早一步，也沒有晚一步，剛巧趕上了

8、不管從什么時候開始，重要的是開始以后不要停止；不管在什么時候結束，重要的是結束以后不要后悔。

9、能沖刷一切的除了眼淚，就是時間，以時間來推移感情，時間越長，沖突越淡，仿佛不斷稀釋的茶。

10、人生短短幾十年，不要給自己留下了什么遺憾，想笑就笑，想哭就哭，該愛的時候就去愛，無謂壓抑自己

11、我們確實活得艱難，一要承受種種外部的壓力，更要面對自己內心的困惑。在苦苦掙扎中，如果有人向你投以理解的目光，你會感到一種生命的暖意，或許僅有短暫的一瞥，就足以使我感奮不已。

12、記住該記住的，忘記該忘記的。改變能改變的，接受不能改變的13、后悔是一種耗費精神的情緒.后悔是比損失更大的損失，比錯誤更大的錯誤.所以不要后悔

14、天長地久有沒有？當然有！為什么大多數人不相信有？因為他們沒有找到人生旅途中最適合自己的那一個。也就是冥冥中注定的那一個。為什么找不到？茫茫人海，人生如露，要找到最合適自己的那一個談何容易？你或許可以在40歲時找到上天注定的那一個，可是你能等到40歲嗎？在20多歲時找不到，卻不得不結婚，在三四十歲時找到卻不得不放棄。這就是人生的悲哀。

15、每個女孩都曾是無淚的天使，當遇到自己喜歡的男孩時，便會流淚--于是變為凡人。所以男孩一定不要辜負女孩，因為女孩為你放棄了整個天堂！

16、你出生的時候，你哭著，周圍的人笑著；你逝去的時候，你笑著，而周圍的人在哭！一切都是輪回!我們都在輪回中!

17、愛一個人就是在拔通電話時，忽然不知道說什么好，原來只是想聽聽那熟悉的聲音，原來真正想拔通的只是自已心底的一根弦

18、當你必須為-段愛情做承諾時，-切其實都已結束；當你必須為一段婚姻做承諾時，一切才剛開始。

19、每個人對待愛情的態度都會不一樣，各人有各自的愛情原則，有自己接受的底線--你最好先問問自己的原則和底線是什么，怎樣做能令內心的自己真的快樂。

20、一個人一生可以愛上很多人的，等你獲得真正屬于你的幸福之后，你就會明白以前的傷痛其實是一種財富，它讓你學會更好地去把握和珍惜你愛的人。

21、愛情不是一種虛榮，要拿出來在眾人面前炫耀；愛情不是一件美麗的衣裳，要穿在外面給大家欣賞；愛情不是一項任務，要對親朋好友有個交待。

22、世界上最容易被忘記的東西，就是愛情

23、我們一生當中，并不可能只愛一個人，但往往有一個人讓你笑得最甜，讓你痛得最深，往往有一處美麗的傷口，成為你身體上不能愈合的一部分！因為陌生，所以勇敢，因為距離，所以美麗。

24、相愛的人，不一定會結婚，而結婚的人又不一定是自己的意中人

25、要遇上一個人只要用一分鐘的時間；要喜歡上一個人只要用一句話的時間；要愛上一個人只要用一天的時間；但要忘記一個人卻要用一生的時間。

26、有一種感覺總在失眠時，才承認是“相思”；有一種緣分總在夢醒后，才相信是“永恒”；有一種目光總在分手時，才看見是“眷戀”；有一種心情總在離別后，才明白是“失落”。

27、在對的時間，遇見對的人，是一生幸福；在對的時間，遇見錯的人，是一場心傷；在錯的時間，遇見錯的人，是一段荒唐；在錯的時間，遇見對的人，是一陣嘆息

28、不是因為寂寞才想你，而是因為想你才寂寞。孤獨的感覺之所以如此之重，只是因為想得太深。

29、我們的人生，如果沒有了愛的存在，那該有多么多么的寂寞。然而，愛情有時候更像是一個童話故事，永遠若即若離，永遠難于把握。平淡的生活里，我們不一定可以找到自己最理想也最完美的愛情。可是，幸好，我們的心靈并沒有因此關閉那扇向往美好的門。有時候，哪怕僅僅是紙上的愛情，也可以溫暖我們日漸荒蕪的心靈。

30、愛一個人不一定就要擁有，但擁有了一個人就應該好好的愛她呵護她。

31、愛是一種殘忍，只有在心中的天平上秤出自己在對方心中是否有愛的分量。

32、愛情如命，生命似水。

33、攤開掌心對著天空，掌心里有陽光，那是我想你時莞爾的笑容；掌心里有雨滴，那是我思念你偶爾滴落的淚水......34、如果敵人讓你生氣，那說明你還沒有勝他的把握；如果朋友讓你生氣，那說明你仍然在意他的友情

35、不要為了寂寞去戀愛，時間是個魔鬼，天長日久，如果你是個多情的人，即使不愛對方，到時候也會產生感情，到最后你怎幺辦？

36、不管多大多老，不管家人朋友怎幺催，都不要隨便對待婚姻，婚姻不是打牌，重新洗牌要付出巨大代價。

37、浪漫是什幺？是送花？雨中漫步？樓前佇立不去？如果兩人彼此傾心相愛，什幺事都不做，靜靜相對都會感覺是浪漫的。否則，即使兩人坐到月亮上拍拖，也是感覺不到浪漫的。

38、你知道嗎？原來那個女孩子在我的心里面流下了一滴眼淚，我完全可以感受到當時她是多么地傷心......39、我希望我用我自己的腳步去走我自己的人生。不管這條道路是泥濘還是平地，這是我自己的選擇。

40、思憶常會在夜靜燈昏時翻開甜酸苦辣也成了一道最凄美的風景線，陳舊的美無法在代謝中泯滅。

41、當你不能夠再擁有的時候，你唯一可以做的就是令自己不要忘記。

42、或許，上天不給我的，無論我兩臂怎緊扣，仍然走漏；給我的，無論過去我怎失手都會擁有，但我仍然祈禱。

43、就算明知道是讓對方痛苦的愛就不要讓它繼續下去，割舍掉。如果不行就將它凍結在自己內心最深的角落。

44、其實人生不如意的事十之七八，夕陽雖然西下，但在某個國家卻是日出。

45、我不知道我現在做的哪些是對的，那些是錯的，而當我終于老死的時候我才知道這些。所以我現在所能做的就是盡力做好每一件事，然后等待著老死。

46、沉溺于以前與回憶的人是一個很懦弱的人，因為她（他）不敢勇敢地正視現實。現實是什么？現實就是變化。沒有不變的感情，沒有不變的人。

47、執子之手，與子共著。執子之手，與子同眠。執子之手，與子偕老。執子之手，夫復何求？

48、這個世界永遠充滿著誘惑。就像猴子掰玉米那樣，看到好的又把懷里的扔了，看到好的又把懷里的扔了，到了最后，留在懷里的其實是個最小的。

49、其實癡情的人永遠都抱著這樣的想法：連我自己都被自己感動，她有什么理由不被我打動呢？但堅持不懈的追求只能證明你是一個堅持不懈的人，僅此而已。

50、如果異地戀要求你要能夠忍受寂寞，而且這種戀情需要一個大團圓的希望，就算很緲茫也好。這是一種精神支柱，是支撐著你堅持這段感情的信念。

第五篇：《祈禱、美食、愛》電影觀后感

《祈禱、美食、愛》電影觀后感

我看的這部電影所想到的問題也是最近我自己一直在想的問題：我的自我，一說到找尋自我很容易讓人聯想到一句話：如果你不是讀著書，那么就走在路上，因為身體和心靈我們需要有一個在路上，現在越來越多的人會在自己讀完大學之后去進行一次間隔年“gap year”，這在外國是一個很早就流行的詞語，而在國內大概是在近幾年才有，在不用擔心吃喝的年代，人們更傾向于在這個時代去尋找自己的內心，自己的聲音，而間隔年這真的是一個挺不錯的生活方式，同時這也是一種找尋自己我、認識自我的一個好的時間。

片中的女主角，不喜歡安于舒適的家庭，覺得自己的人生仿佛一直都是在談戀愛找男人結婚之間，而從來沒有為自己活過，也因為種種的原因她結束了她的那段婚姻，她下了一個很大的決心去意大利生活，去印度的修道院然后去巴厘島學習，離婚這件事對她來說是是一件很心痛的事情，但同時她也為失去自我而在掙扎，所以盡管傷心，她還是勇敢的為自己做了一個據決定，整部電影差不多用了三個小時去講女主角在尋找生活的平衡，尋找心靈的歸屬的過程，在這一路上她把她遇到的每一個人都當做老師，與他們交流，在他們身上學著積極樂觀、又或者是堅持和愛，到最后幫助在路上遇到的有困難的人們，她的那種自由、不羈的性格真的很吸引我，現在的我，就是有點迷茫，大學的三年，我沒有覺得自己白過，反而覺得自己拼足了努力去過好每一天，去做好自己，對于過去的自己我是認可的，而在面臨快要畢業的時間，我本來對自己的打算卻開始有點懦弱了，我看到了自己不敢再向前踏一步的那種小心翼翼。

在大學的期間太忙，忙于各種活動，認識很多的朋友，以此來豐富自己，沒有時間讀書，對于旅行，更加是慌慌張張，我想正因為這樣，所以至今覺得自己缺少了一點信仰，懶是借口，害怕自己成為不了想成為的人，不敢前進才是真的，這部片就像是給我當頭一棒，覺得什么事情都總會有第一次，我們想要決定去做一樣東西的時候也許就需要放棄另外一些東西，其實這并不是不會珍惜，因為我覺得在你“擁有”前，你要知道自己是否真的已經確定好這件事了，例如一個人、一個夢、又或者是一種生活的態度，每天的混混沌沌和磨蹭也只是讓事情變得更加消極、浪費時間，所以我覺得有時候一個狠心的決定是你需要做的，對自己狠一點，那么你才會進步，生活太安逸了容易讓人迷失，想太多也是一種毛病，快刀斬亂麻，也許真的只有你這樣做了，才會知道事情在改變。

還聽過一句話：如果你現在覺得自己過得不快樂，你渴望旅行，因為你覺得你走出去了說不定就開心了，因為你覺得自己這樣一定是悶壞了才會不開心，那就錯了，因為無趣的人如果沒有一個積極的心，那么無論你去到哪里，你都是會這樣的。看完這個片，我覺得我也是應該給自己定一個硬性的計劃，然后去做去實行，這個計劃不必太詳細，因為很多時候計劃趕不上變化，所以我們要有的是目標，而不是一件件強迫自己去完成的事，在遇到的每一件事情上成長，在遇到的每一個人身上學習，以一種虔誠的態度看待世界，了解生活中我們總是會遇到的生活的另一面，理解那一面不安的我們，傷心又或者失望的我們，但是我們還是要堅持，就像那一棟棟無聲的建筑，不說話的我們總有一天會滿身沉淀。

所有還沒有方向的人，我們都要給自己懷有更多的正能量，畢竟只有這樣我們才能夠把日子過得更有趣啊，只有這個我們也才能夠在不斷了解自己的時候去原諒自己，與自己共存。