Quotes About Self-discovery

shadows of people one might have been; unborn selves.

In other words, now that she had rid herself of falsehood, that young woman had only to be herself. Ah, but what is herself? I mean, what is a woman? I assure you, I do not know, I do not believe that you know.

Orlando had become a woman. In every other aspect, Orlando remained precisely as he had been

When I rummage in my own mind I find no noble sentiments about being companions and equals and influencing the world to higher ends. I find myself saying briefly and prosaically that it is much more important to be oneself than anything else.

Talk of solitude (...). It is the last resort of the civilised: our souls are so creased and soured in meaning we can only unfold them when we are alone. (5/4/1927 - From a Letter to Vita Sackville-West)

Magában lehet, egyedül. S mostanában erre gyakran van szüksége - hogy gondolkozzék. Hogy ne kelljen beszélnie, egyedül legyen. Az egész lét, minden, amit teszünk, dallamos, ragyogó, lelkesítÅ', elillan, s ünnepélyes érzéssel önmagunkká, legigazibb lényünkké zsugorodunk, a sötétség ék alakú, mások számára láthatatlan magvává.

I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me.

For now, she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of—to think; well, not even to think. To be silent; to be alone.

made up, as one makes up the better part of life...making oneself up; ...creating an exquisite amusement...

So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places.

Non aveva mai capito che senso avesse fare a pezzi le persone, come faceva Clarissa Dalloway - farle a pezzi e poi rimetterle assieme.

Perché se siamo sufficientemente decisi possiamo sbattere fuori casa questa sgualdrina, la Memoria, e tutte le sue carabattole.

For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents, and at the same time a grown woman coming to her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, 'This is what I have made of it! This!' And what had she made of it? What, indeed?

You have to grow from the inside out. None can teach you, none can make you spiritual. There is no other teacher but your own soul.

If you don't leave home you suffocate, if you go too far you lose oxygen.

Very young, I was not able to find myself interesting without intelligent response. I required the company of minds attuned to my own, but no one around gave me back the words I needed to hear.

Solitude was corrupting me.

This then is my story. I have reread it. It has bits of marrow sticking to it, and blood, and beautiful bright-green flies. At this or that twist of it I feel my slippery self eluding me, gliding into deeper and darker waters than I care to probe.

the name that the astute reader has guessed long ago

17nastai hugshin emegtei...

Eis aqui, pois, a minha história. Eu a reli. Ela contém fragmentos de medula - e sangue, e belas e brilhantes moscas azuis. Neste ou naquele de seus volteios sinto que o meu escorregadio 'eu' me foge, deslizando para águas mais profundas e negras do que aquelas que me interessa perscrutar.

De kilheid van haar eigen hart verbaasde haar. Ze was een meer met onvermoede diepten, ijskoud was het water daar.

I have found that when players break their habitual patterns, they can greatly extend the limits of their own style and explore subdued aspects of their personality.

Freedom from stress happens in proportion to our responsiveness to our true selves, allowing every moment possible to be an opportunity for Self 2 to be what it is and enjoy the process. As far as I can see, this is a lifelong learning process.