Quotes About Thoughts

So rescue yourself from these general themes and write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty—describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects you remember.

So far as other people are concerned, you are your behaviour; so far as you are concerned, you are your thoughts and feelings.

Can you think yourself to death?

Writing down your thoughts is both necessary and harmful. It leads to eccentricity, narcissism, preserves what should be let go. On the other hand, these notes intensify the inner life, which, left unexpressed, slips through your fingers. If only I could find a better kind of journal, humbler, one that would preserve the same thoughts, the same flesh of life, which is worth saving. from "In That Great River: A Notebook," Poetry . Originally Published: June 1, 2010

It was as though I had parted company all at once with my usual reasoning self, which had withdrawn into the shadows, leaving me no means of communicating with it; while another "I" took command, functioning at a different, more mysterious level, where all outer appearances were deceptive, and even the thoughts in my head shot with ambiguity.

For the first time in her life she could talk openly of the things which interested her and were important to her. She had a great need of speech, of putting her thoughts into words; otherwise her thoughts seemed to escape her, flying about her brain in a wild confusion. It needed the power of words to put them in their places. And Rachel was full of understanding, using her sensitiveness to fan the thoughts of Anna towards coherency.

I know. Brains and dicks. Maybe they're too far apart to function together.

Meditation needs an awake mind not an unconscious one.

But the thoughts were excellent hunters and devoured sleep.

Or maybe I was projecting from past experience with men. Man. The one who used to leave me feeling that something was my fault even when I couldn't have controlled someone else's actions or thoughts or opinions.

Don't you know that every time we meet the thoughts of the final parting will become more painful? Don't you feel that every interview makes us dearer to each other than the last?

Then a miracle occurred in the form of a plate of sandwiches. Geryon took three and buried his mouth in a delicious block of white bread filled with tomatoes and butter and salt. He thought about how delicious it was, how he liked slippery foods, how slipperiness can be of different kinds. I am a philosopher of sandwiches, he decided. Things good on the inside.

all the tall mad mountains of her mind

Jej bÅ'Ä™kit zajÄ…Å' miejsce w szarych zakamarkach jego mózgu i pozostaÅ' tam do koÅ"ca ?ycia

I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.

A pink fluttering bird flew across her mind.

Absurdities exasperated her. At the same time, the slow process of patiently leading recalcitrant thinkers to better thoughts by artful persuasions seemed to her a waste of time--a logical argument, cogently expressed, was surely sufficient to convince, and if it did not convince, then the case might well be hopeless and not worth pursuing.

Ever consider what pets must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul — chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we're the greatest hunters on earth!

Ever consider what pets must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul - chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we're the greatest hunters on earth!

We sleep to time's hurdy-gurdy; we wake, if ever we wake, to the silence of God. And then, when we wake to the deep shores of time uncreated, then when the dazzling dark breaks over the far slopes of time, then it's time to toss things, like our reason, and our will; then it's time to break our necks for home. There are no events but thoughts and the heart's hard turning, the heart's slow learning where to love and whom. The rest is merely gossip, and tales for other times.

Le temps passait lentement, il ne parlait pas beaucoup, sans que je puisse savoir pourquoi. Il est déjà parti dans sa tête, voilà tout.

Little birds of thought die in her throat.

What we shouldn't do is keep our thoughts inside our heads, inert, unchanged by encounters with the world beyond the skull.

Worry is a complete cycle of inefficient thought revolving about a pivotal fear.