Quotes About Self-awareness

A coward judges all he sees by what he is.

because the hardest boss a man can ever have is himself.

Give a man or woman back his self-respect, and in most cases-not all, but most-you also give back that person's ability to think with at least some clarity.

For most of us, I think it's easier to admit doing wrong than being stupid.

The kid in you just leaked out, like the air out of a tire. And one day you looked in the mirror and there was a grownup looking back at you.

There are lots of guys out there who write a better prose line than I do and who have a better understanding of what people are really like and what humanity is supposed to mean – hell, I know that.

De un extraño te puedes apartar, pero de ti mismo no.

You didn't get sober to be stupid, Danny. Keep it in mind the next time you start listening to that itty-bitty shitty committee inside your head.

You know, King said, I'm not much good at telling stories. That sounds like a paradox, but it's not; it's the reason I write them down.

The universe is large, he thought. It contains multitudes. It also contains me, and in this moment I am wonderful. I have a right to be wonderful.

Writers are often the worst judges of what they have written.

It's like the old pie-in-the-face routine: it stops being funny when it starts being you.

It's about how some people carelessly squander what others would sell their souls to have: a healthy, pain-free body. And why? Because they're too blind, too emotionally scarred, or too self-involved to see past the earth's dark curve to the next sunrise. Which always comes, if one continues to draw breath.

That's the day's business. Thinking. Thinking and isolation, because it doesn't matter if you pass the time of day with someone or not; in the end, you're alone. He seemed to have put in as many miles in his brain as he had with his feet. The thoughts kept coming and there was no way to deny them.

If being a grown-up really meant knowing better, why did his father go on smoking three packs of unfiltered cigarettes a day and snorting cocaine until his nose bled? If being a grown-up gave you some sort of special knowledge of the right things to do, how come his mother was sleeping with her masseuse, who had huge biceps and no brains?

perhaps real beauty was something unrecognized by the conscious self, a work that was always in progress, a thing of being rather than seeing.

College was for people who didn't know they were smart.

The trouble with living alone, she had discovered-and the reason why most people she knew didn't like to be alone even for a little while-was that the longer you lived alone, the louder the voices on the right side of your brain got.

Television is all right, I've nothing against it, but I don't like how it turns you away from the rest of the world and toward nothing but its own glassy self.

Writing about yourself seems to be a lot like sticking a branch into clear river-water and rolling up the muddy bottom.

The lesson is that you're just an animal in a cage, no more than that, no better than that.

The palm of his hand was a dull red. Not a good sign. I jerk off left-handed, he thought, at least that's something.

Oh Christ, he understood more than he wanted to right now. Give me a chance, Louis thought, and I'll understand myself right into the nearest mental asylum.

It's possible to remain long in the state of deprivation if you are not aware you can escape it. Knowing what exists and who you are is enough to inform you to make ideal choices.