Quotes About Shadow

With respect to ceremonies, there is some appearance of a change having taken place; but it was only the use of them that was abolished, for their meaning was more fully confirmed. The coming of Christ has taken nothing away even from ceremonies, but, on the contrary, confirms them by exhibiting the truth of shadow.

Mortality shadowed him like a falcon mantling its wings over dying prey.

Where'e're I go, my Soul shall stay with thee: 'Tis but my Shadow I take away...

A life is a moment in season. A life is one snowfall. A life is one autumn day. A life is the delicate, rapid edge of a closing door's shadow. A life is a brief movement of arms and of legs.

Has it ever happened to you...? The color of the day suddenly changes to shadow. And you know you're going to remember that moment for the rest of your life.

The Enlightened one has told you in never-to-be-forgotten words that this little span of life is but a passing shadow, a fleeting thing.

On twitter, you may have a zero follower; but in real life, this is not possible because everyone has a shadow!

Flirting with the dark side has always had it's fascination. Because you learn, and there's wisdom there. Escpecially with the post-Freudian era with the young, the shadow is ninety percent gold. You hold treasures there that you need to learn about yourself to be a whole person.

Every poem is shadowed by desire, but it is also shadowed by the problem of rendering desire in language. There is a place where similitude seems to break down because experience itself seems beyond compare.

Every man is a moon and has a [dark] side which he turns toward nobody; you have to slip around behind if you want to see it. -Mark Twain From introduction to The Amateur.

Worry gives a small thing a big shadow. Swedish proverb

a night twenty years ago and forever and but a prelude to the century, but a shadow of the far deeper descent into darkness that was yet to come….

Learning a little about one's shadow (you never know a lot or enough) is the best and perhaps only way to be free of the straitjacket of oversocialization that HSPs often don in childhood.

She was like the full moon when it crouches behind the forest and the branches scribble on its face.

Even Tolstoy is an insignificant shadow if he takes a stroll with Anna Karenina.

La nuova carne viva ripeteva la vecchia per gioco, eravamo una catena di ombre che andava da sempre in scena con la stessa carica di amore, di odio, di voglie e di violenza.

It is indeed no small matter to know one's own guilt and one's own evil, and there is certainly nothing to be gained by losing sight of one's shadow. When we are conscious of our guilt we are in a more favourable position – we can at least hope to change and improve ourselves

In addition to the Self, Jung postulated archetypal components which play specific roles in the psychic development and social adjustment of everyone. These include the ego, persona, shadow, anima, and animus. Jung considered these to be archetypal structures which are built into the personal psyche in the form of complexes during the course of development. Each is a psychic organ operating in accordance with the biological principles of adaptation, homeostasis, and growth.

But unlike many of his detractors, one suspects, Jung worked on his shadow: 'It is indeed no small matter to know one's own guilt and one's own evil, and there is certainly nothing to be gained by losing sight of one's shadow. When we are conscious of our guilt we are in a more favourable position – we can at least hope to change and improve ourselves' (CW X, para. 440).

The abandonment of civilized values exposes us collectively to possession by the worst elements of the Shadow.

Cuando el sol, frente a mí, irrumpa violento, todo caerá en la sombra otra vez: en la sombra del sol –de eso el que mandó sabe–, en el humo y la niebla.

Will the spellbound world die with you" Will the spellbound world die with you where memory hangs on to clean breaths in life, the white shadow of a first love, a voice that struck your heart, the hand you wanted to grab in dreams, and every love that fell in the soul down to the bottom sky? Will your world die with you, the old life you remade in your way? Have the anvils and crucibles of your soul been working for dust and wind?

Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming— its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence

Sometimes at night I light a lamp so as not to see.