Quotes About Contemplation

I've thought about all the things I could have done differently, and if it would have led to another outcome. But thinking doesn't change anything, does it?

con su visión recuperada, bajaba los ojos para no tener que ver.

You will ask yourself How come; you will ask yourself What if.

She turned to stare out the window, lost in a thousand thoughts, not a single one of which Danielle could guess.

I've thought about all the things I could have done differently, and if it would have led to another outcome. But thinking doesn't change anything, does it?

It was the sort of place where you could hear the tumblers of your mind falling into place as you pieced thought together, as you tried to match it to action.

It is so easy to think that the world revolves around you but all you have to do is stare up at the sky to realize it isn't that way at all.

So you see, the real question isn't how I left this world to go to the woods. It's how I made myself come back.

I love the fact that it needs to sit quietly, to retreat from touch and noise and drama, in order to evolve. I have to admit, I often feel that way myself.

but I love the fact that it needs to sit quietly, to retreat from touch and noise and drama, in order to evolve. I have to admit, I often feel that way myself.  Ã¢â'¬Â¢

There was a time when I could see God in a single crumb.

seeing Darija or doing anything but my

I walk towards the car but on second thought step back to the railing for a final look. Enormous. Anonymous. I could hurtle myself down the walls of this chasm, and never be found.

Loneliness is a mirror and it recognizes itself

I was just going to stand here and watch it happen. I wasn't going to say a fucking thing. Why? Because what did it matter? What did any of it matter?

Slow as your own dubious grace.

But before we address this question

Nec si quot placidis ignea noctibus Scintillant tacito sydera culmine, Nec si quot tepidum flante Favonio Ver suffundit humo rosas, Tot sint ora mihi...

What on earth shall I do

A writer had to stand the silences that came with being alone[…]. You could think when you were alone, and writers needed to think.

Everything in life should be done with reflection.

Pulling down his hat he lingered on the street corner, melting back against a grimy wall of London brick.

This, I told myself, this is the way I shall be condemned to pass my days, turning over words, stray lines, fragments of memory, to see what might be lurking underneath them, as if they were so many flat stones, while I steadily faded.

What did I brood on, sitting there in the classic pose with my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands? We do not need to go to the Greeks, our tragic predicament is written out on rolls of lavatory paper.