Quotes About Inner self

Your desires and true beliefs have a way of playing blind man's bluff. You must corner the inner facts...

Deep down, you know you're him.

En la primera mitad de la vida lo que más importa es la apariencia externa, pero cuando entramos en la segunda sólo nos mantienen los cimientos, los pilares ocultos donde se sienta la estructura de nuestra personalidad.

If you seek happiness, look in the mirror. If you seek love, look elsewhere.

Through writing, an author opens the window of his heart through which a reader can see the inner self of the author.

Listen to your inner self, it knows you best.

You have friends who actually care about you and speak the language of the inner self. You have avoided them of late. Your soul is as disheveled as your apartment, and until you can clean it up a little you don't want to invite anyone inside.

Moishe] explained to me, with great emphasis, that every question possessed a power that was lost in the answer.... And why do you pray, Moishe?' I asked him. I pray to the God within me for the strength to ask Him the real questions.

And why do you pray, Moishe?" I asked him. "I pray to the God within me for the strength to ask Him the real questions.

strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them. The hunt to uncover those jewels—that's creative living. The courage to go on that hunt in the first place—that's what separates a mundane existence from a more enchanted one. The often surprising results of that hunt—that's what I call Big Magic.

The proper word for me," Robin Goodman says, "is me.

But we didn't fit, he and I. He thought it was because he was too old. He was older, and compared to the age I was I did think he was ancient. He was in his sixties then. Well, now I know that your sixties feel the same as all the other ages, and your seventies. You never stop being yourself on the inside, whatever age people think you are by looking at you from the outside.

for everything I am is my mind, that never leaves me.

O planeta Saturno, no céu físico, poderia não estar 'influenciando' a nós tanto quanto ressoando com o Saturno que está em cada um de nós. Algo como a Lua solitária no céu à noite, refletindo-se em dez mil poças d'água simultaneamente.

Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.

The essence of a person is not the clothing she wears or the things he does. People who love them do not stop loving them when they change clothing or do other things. Your essence is not even your history, culture, race, or what you think and do. It is your soul.

A lot of Wynonna is what I wish I could be. I don't like confrontation. I'm pretty polite. But I think she's the side of me that, if I could be free, that's who I'd be.

Within each of us dwells a higher order of consciousness created with a possibility far greater than to merely appear and disappear as some form in the river of passing time.

There are selves too big for one person to contain. You cannot call them selfish. There is nothing -ish about such selves. They are the self, as it were, itself.

I think the person creates the artist. And I think when you get lost within your person, your artistry get lost, too. It's like in 'Birdman.' Because the artist inside you is attached to your soul. And when you're not attached to yourself anymore, the soul goes away. You can't let that happen.

Our reaction against the sentimentality embodied in Victorian and post-Victorian writing was so resolute writers came to believe that the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art. That was a mistake. ...if you are not risking sentimentality, you are not close to your inner self.

We come from a place that has always been inside us. Our words migrate helplessly. The world reflects only itself. Which is why we have to create our own memories.

It sounds ironic to say that the cure for loneliness is aloneness. I don't mean that you should just make yourself more miserable; I am prescribing instead a form of solitude that is meditative and open to your inner self.

She told herself it was the dry night wind and lashing hair, the way her eyes filled when her lonely race finished, but it was always the same whether the air was dry or not, whether her hair was down or up, so she knew. For those few minutes running across the city, she could be and was herself, purely and truly herself, finding herself in those moments only to lose herself once more when she slowed, falling behind as her true self ran free somewhere ahead in the empty night—