Quotes About Self-discovery

It is tragic how few people ever 'possess their souls' before they die. 'Nothing is more rare in any man,' says Emerson, 'than an act of his own.' It is quite true. Most people are other people.

Not that the path was smooth and pothole free. But still, it was my path, and like me, it was bound to be unique. -Zoey

Quem vive não pode se esconder. devagar, tudo acontece conosco. O tempo mesquinho se contrai.

I am part-demon, part-human. What else does that make me? She answered his question with one of her own. I am part-centaur, part-human. Does that make me a mutant? It makes you a miracle. She held his gaze. Exactly.

I got lost in the night, without the light of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness.

And that's why i have to go back to so many places there to find myself and constantly examine myself with no witness but the moon and then whistle with joy, ambling over rocks and clods of earth, with no task but to live, with no family but the road.

Algún día en cualquier parte, en cualquier lugar indefectiblemente te encontrarás a ti mismo, y ésa, sólo ésa, puede ser la más feliz o la más amarga de tus horas.

Por eso tengo que volver a tantos sitios veneridos para encontrarme conmigo y examinarme sin cesar sin testigo que la luna, y luego silbar de alegria pisando piedras y terrones sin tarea que existir sin familia que el camino

Die Slowly' by Pablo Neruda: He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.

Someday, somewhere -anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

What weighs more heavily on the belt, sadness or memories? Where is the child I was, still inside me or gone? Why did we spend so much time growing up only to separate? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?

I was born anew, owner of my own darkness.

I adore my own lost being, my imperfect substance

I know, I know, but here beside the water while the locusts chitter and sparkle, although they are waiting, I want to wait for myself. I too want to watch myself. I want to discover at last my own feelings. And when I reach the place where I am waiting, I expect to fall asleep, dying of laughter.

Dónde está el niño que yo fui, sigue dentro de mí o se fue? Sabe que no lo quise nunca y que tampoco me quería? Por qué anduvimos tanto tiempo creciendo para separarnos? Por qué no morimos los dos cuando mi infancia se murió? Y si el alma se me cayó por qué me sigue el esqueleto?

Huye. Aléjate. Extínguete. Mi alma debe estar sola. Debe crucificarse, hacerse astillas, rodar, verterse, contaminarse sola, abierta a la marea de los llantos, ardiendo en el ciclón de las furias, erguida entre los cerros y los pájaros, aniquilarse, exterminarse sola, abandonada y única como un faro de espanto.

Quiero saber, hermanos míos, dije en la Unión de Pescadores, si todos se aman como yo. La verdad es - me contestaron - que nosotros pescamos peces y tú te pescas a ti mismo y luego vuelves a pescarte y a tirarte al mar otra vez.

My mother said to me, "If you are a soldier, you will become a general. If you are a monk, you will become the Pope." Instead, I was a painter, and became Picasso.

Everything I had been carting from one stage of my life to another, to remind me of me, was in the boxes that surrounded me. And there were so many of them now, just days before my thirty-seventh birthday. But so little left of me. At the end of a marriage, no one wins. There is only anger, sorrow, guilt, emptiness, and defeat.

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds.

The more important question, of course, was what the new Lucy would do, and even though I was pretty sure the old Lucy wouldn't be around much anymore, I was a little bit afraid the new Lucy hadn't yet shown up.

Find yourself a place in the universe,' she said, 'a place where the dirt feels like goodness under your feet. Take the right picture and a man will walk into it. If you can bear him even a little, then for a while let him stay.

This is when I learned the art of leaving. I knew if I didn't get away, I'd be no help to anyone. Freeing yourself is mandatory before you can help to free others.

I'm half Italian." "Which half?" the words were out before Tessa could stop them. Was she flirting with him? She never flirted with men. His lips curved in a slow, sexy smile that made her heart trip. "From the waist down.