Quotes About Searching

What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.

Any one who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who's in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It' like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven't seen in a long time. It's just a natural feeling. You're not the person who discovered that feeling, so don't try to patent it, okay?

But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return. Was that so depressing? Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoyevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn't a place for me.

As I gazed at my reflection I wondered, Where am I headed? Before that, though, the question was Where have I come to? Where is this place? No, before that even I needed to ask, Who the hell am I?

But knowing what I don't want to do doesn't help me figure out what I do want to do. I could do just about anything if somebody made me. But I don't have an image of the one thing I really want to do. That's my problem now. I can't find the image.

If you don't know what you're looking for, it's not easy to look for it." Erika

I would stare at the grains of light suspended in that silent space, struggling to see into my own heart. What did I want? And what did others want from me? But I could never find the answers. Sometimes I would reach out and try to grasp the grains of light, but my fingers touched nothing.

Sometimes when I think of life, I feel like a piece of driftwood washed up on shore.

Where are you now?' Where was I now? Gripping the receiver, I raised my hand and turned to see what lay beyond the telephone booth. Where was I now? I had no idea. No idea at all. Where was this place? All that flashed into my eyes were the countless shapes of people walking by to nowhere. Again and again, I called out for Midori from the dead center of this place that was no place.

With the advent of winter, her eyes seemed to take on a greater transparency, a transparency that lead nowhere. Occassionally, for no particular reason, Naoko would gaze into my eyes as if searching for something. Each time I was filled with odd sensations of lonliness and inadequecy.

What was I hoping to gain from this?...Was I trying to confirm the ties that make it possible for me to exist here and now. Was I hoping to be woven into some new plot, to be given some new and better defined role to play? No, he thought, that's not it. What I was chasing in circles must have been the tail of darkness inside me. I just happened to catch sight of it, and followed it, and clung to it, and in the end let it fly into still deeper darkness. I'm sure I'll never see it again.

I could go on like this forever, but would I ever find a place that was meant for me? Like, for example, where? After lengthy considerations, the only place I could think of was the cockpit of a two-seater Kamikaze torpedo-plane. Of all the dumb ideas. In the first place, all the torpedo-planes were scrapped thirty years ago

It was just that, no matter where I found myself, I felt like there was a hole inside me, with the wind rushing through. I never felt satisfied. From the outside you wouldn't imagine I had any troubles.

It's like I'd been born with a blind spot, and was always missing something. And what I missed was always the most important thing of all.

I'm caught between one void and another. I have no idea what's right, what's wrong. I don't even know what I want any more.

I can't find the image, I said to myself. I'm thirty, I'm standing still, and I can't find the image.

Someone who can search for something is happy. Searching gives a meaning to life. Nowadays it's not so easy to find something you might be looking for. The most important thing, however, is the search itself, the way you take. It's not so important where it leads. that's why my characters are always looking for something, maybe only a cat, a sheep or a wife, but that is at least the beginning of a story.

Dee Dee?" Mildred's voice could sharpen pencils. "Where are you?

I stuck a barette with a silver star into my black hair. If I was going to be popping my head in and out of bars like a wife who was looking for her husband who had just got paid and was squandering all the money, at least I was going to look unbelievably fantastic while I was doing it.

Firstly, there is no perfect man. Looking for that it worse than starting the race badly, it means you're in the wrong race. What women should be searching for is their ideal man - i.e. the one whose values, beliefs and outlook on life synergise with their own.

It's just insane because, as a longtime WWE fan, I still have all of my action figures in storage. Now to have my own, and to see my nephews play with them, to see kids tweet me pictures with them, and to see people are actually going out of their way searching all of these stores trying to find them, it's really cool and humbling.

When the woodpecker is searching for food, or laying siege to some hidden grub, the sound of his hammer is dead or muffled and is heard but a few yards. It is only upon dry, seasoned timber, freed of its bark, that he beats his reveille to spring and wooes his mate.

Yeah, I wanted to know where they got it from, what it was all about, you know, and it seemed to strike something in me that was you know rearing it's head and I still don't know what that is.