Quotes About Self-awareness

I will meet idiots today, went one version of her after-waking meditation, and one of them will probably be me. Iau Hau'hai, Queen of Life and of Making Things Work, grant me of Your courtesy the courage to shred that idiot's ears when I meet her, and then get on with work…for being right is nothing next to having things be right…

Sometimes you can know things. Things about yourself. Things from before you can remember.

The doctor's wife wasn't a bad woman. She was sufficiently convinced of her own importance to believe that God actually did watch everything she did and listen to everything she said, and she was too taken up with rooting out the pride she was prone to feeling in her own holiness to notice any other failings she might have had. She was a do-gooder, which means that all the ill she did, she did without realizing it.

I wondered. What did she think of our attempts to persuader ourselves that this was life and that we were really living it?

turn all the mirrors to the wall.

Her knowledge of her own mind was what he admired about her. To expect her to bend to his wishes would be to expect her to be other than herself.

A man like me gets used to recognizing himself from the inside. The inside is what I am familiar with. Nor am I much given to studying my outward appearance in the looking glass. It is a curious thing, to see oneself in a photograph. It is a meeting with the outer man.

But you know it was here? In this house?" Aurelius shoved his hands into the depths of his pockets. His shoulders tightened. "I wouldn't expect other people to understand. I haven't got any proof. But I do know." He sent me a quick glance, and I encouraged him, with my eyes, to continue. "Sometimes you can know things. Things about yourself. Things from before you can remember. I can't explain it.

It's more about what this training teaches a man about himself than a skill he'll take with him into the groups or into combat," Captain Shields added.

Impulses like that, I answered myself, that seemed to come from nowhere, they weren't really impulses at all, they were decisions already made but waiting for an opportunity to be spoken aloud.

When I had finished dressing, I took another look in the same long mirror. There was the man who had come from Australia four months ago, a man in a good dark-gray suit, a white shirt, and a navy-blue silk tie; there was his shell, anyway. Inside I wasn't the same man, nor ever would be again.

We have problems all over the world today, because men cease to be individuals. We like to identify with everything other than ourselves. We like to identify with groups, races, religions, you hear it every day. 'I'm Italian! I'm German! I'm Negro! I'm Jewish!' So what? Do you realize that when you identify with anything other than yourself, first as an individual, you have a cheap way out a lot of your own shortcomings?

Looking back upon my work today, I think the best I have done grew out of things deeply felt, the worst from a pride in mere talent.

autobiographical novel. He fancied himself

Simon: You always were wise beyond your years. Cassandra: No I wasn't. I used to be consciously naive.

I could see he was nervous; at least, I thought I could, but then it struck me how little I know of him, or of Topaz or Rose or anyone in the world, really, except myself.

But I am not quite Jane Austen yet and there are limits to what I can stand.

I really am just as discontented, but I don't seem to notice it so much.

I soon realised I was making a fool of myself...things like that happen when you are in love with the wrong person. Worse things. things you never forgive yourself for... ...I'll blame myself for as long as I live. It's you I love and always will.

That the self advances and confirms the myriad things is called delusion. That the myriad things advance and confirm the self is enlightenment.

If everybody spent enough time worrying about their own goddamn selves, no one would have to worry about anyone else.

You need to know things the others don't know. It's what no one knows about you that allows you to know yourself.

Fear is self-awareness raised to a higher level.

Time seems to pass. The world happens, unrolling into moments, and you stop to glance at a spider pressed to its web. There is a quickness of light and a sense of things outlined precisely and streaks of running luster on the bay. You know more surely who you are on a strong bright day after a storm when the smallest falling leaf is stabbed with self-awareness. The wind makes a sound in the pines and the world comes into being, irreversibly, and the spider rides the wind-swayed web.