Quotes About Contemplation

No ass had the right to look that good in plain old dark blue denim, Sheridan mused as she stared after him.

I talk to myself every once in a while. Give myself very good advice. Sometimes I even take it. I

No one had said anything, or even lifted an eyebrow at me; sometimes it's just the inside of your own head that is the problem.

took a moment to look around

The loneliness is the mother of wisdom.

What were his views in this, and in every other action of his life,—or rather what were the opinions which floated in the brains of other people concerning it, was a thought which too much floated in his own, and too often broke in upon his rest, when he should have been sound asleep.

In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.

My thoughts amuse me.

You can think a thing over many times and still have no idea how you'll answer the question, if ever it's asked.

It was the most eloquent silence I ever heard.

He says a million things without saying a word. I make a note to study David Pertrakis.I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

I can never tell with moments of silence. They're so... silent. Empty.

i lean into the mirror. eyes after eyes after eyes stare back at me. am i in there somewhere?

He says a million things without saying a word. I make a note to study David Petrakis. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

Usually when I enter a bookstore, I feel immediately calm. Bookstores are, for me, what churches are for other people. My breath gets slower and deeper as I peruse the shelves. I believe that books contain messages I am meant to receive. I'm not normally superstitious, but I've even had books fall from shelves and land at my feet. Books are my missives from the universe.

I felt it was for this I had come: to wake at dawn on a hillside and look out on a world for which I had no words, to start at the beginning, speechless and without plan, in a place that still had no memories for me.

Life has ill-prepared me for finding any enjoyment in a press of merrymakers.

Laurie R. King

I went into the bathroom and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror over the sink. All my years looked back at me, and I could feel their weight, pressing down on my shoulders. I ran the shower hot and stood under it for a long time...

What does it all

The realisation of one's own death is the point at which one becomes adult.

I have done so many things in my life, she said to the mirror. Evil things, perhaps. But never unattentively, never wastefully...was I wrong?

books everywhere piled up in heaps, the rare companions of a solitude not self-imposed but sought.

My friends must all have known all along. Yet nobody breathed a word. But of course, the truth is that nobody ever does breathe a word, nobody interferes, nobody whispers while the acrobat is on the tight-rope; they just sit and watch the spectacle, waiting only to be wise after the event.