Quotes About Thoughts

I sit alone and watch the clock Trying to collect my thoughts All I think about is you And so I cry myself to sleep And hope the devil I don't meet In the dreams that I live through

And the rain is brain-coloured, and the thunder is like something remembering something.

And the rain is brain colored, and the thunder sounds like somthing rembering somthing.

The only writers who have any peace are the ones who don't write. And there are some like that. They wallow in a sea of possibilities. To express a thought, you first have to limit it, and that means kill it. Every word I speak robs me of a thousand others, and every line I write means giving up another.

Philemon explained how Jung treated thoughts as though they were generated by himself, while for Philemon "thoughts were like animals in the forest, or people in a room, or birds in the air." Jung concluded that Philemon taught him "psychic objectivity, the reality of the psyche." This helped Jung to understand that there is something in me which can say things that I do not know and do not intend.

One has to multiply thoughts to the point where there aren't enough policemen to control them.

Es extraño que resulte tan difícil despertar ecos hasta en las cabezas huecas.

Thoughts, like fleas, jump from man to man, but they don't bite everybody.

Der Mensch denkt nicht vergeblich. Kein Gedanke, auch nicht der wunderlichste, vergeht fruchtlos.

Memory is so corrupt that you remember only what you want to; if you want to forget about something, slowly but surely you do.

He desires only to preserve a few memories, assemble a few thoughts, to dream more than live and patiently await death, calmly preparing for it.

She tries to think, but the monotonous stuttering of the wheels breaks the flow of her thoughts, and the narcotic cowl of sleep tightens over her throbbing forehead—that muffled and yet overpowering railroad-sleep in which one lies rapt and benumbed as though in a shuddering black coal sack made of metal.

la sola idea de un libro con palabras alineadas, renglones, páginas y hojas, la sola idea de un libro en el que leer, perseguir y capturar pensamientos nuevos, frescos, diferentes de los míos, pensamientos para distraerse y para atesorarlos en mi cerebro, esa sola idea era capaz de embriagarme y también de serenarme.

Ama ne kadar soyut görünürlerse görünsünler, düÅŸünceler de bir dayanak noktas?na gereksinim duyarlar, yoksa kendi çevrelerinde anlams?zca dönmeye baÅŸlarlar; onlar da hiçliÄŸe katlanamaz.

Lo mismo que ella en él, en la más extrema soledad, también él piensa en ella en el mismo momento. Apartada por leguas y muros, invisibles e inalcanzables una para otra, respiran sus dos almas con idéntico deseo en el mismo segundo del tiempo: en espacios inalcanzables, por encima del tiempo, se unen sus pensamientos, al difundirse en vibraciones circulares, lo mismo que labio y labio en el beso.

Nietzsche's own thoughts gathered around him and with which he was entrapped as by an impenetrable bell glass, a solitude wherein there were no flowers or colours or music or beasts or men, a solitude whence even God was excluded, the dead and petrified solitude of some primeval world which existed long ago or may come into being aeons hence.

Her words came tumbling out in pursuit of the images hurrying through her mind.

I hadn't had a book in my hands for four months, and the mere idea of a book where I could see words printed one after another, lines, pages, leaves, a book in which I could pursue new, different, fresh thoughts to divert me, could take them into my brain, had something both intoxicating and stupefying about it.

La giraffa ha il cuore lontano dai pensieri. Si è innamorata ieri, e ancora non lo sa.

While she lay there with these old worn thoughts coming obediently into her mind, called there by habit and the familiar quiet of early morning, she was aware that at the back of her mind there was another thought that was not at all stale, but so fresh that it was nearly a feeling, with all a feeling's delicious power to kill thought.

His thoughts swirled like a beck in spate behind the sodden grey furrows of his face. A woman … Blast! Blast! Come to wrest away from him the land whose love fermented in his veins like slow yeast.

True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.

Buddhists like to compare the mind to a monkey—constantly chattering and hopping about from branch to branch, topic to topic.

She tried to do what the Equinox yoga instructor said to do and thank each thought for coming then let it float away, but the thoughts were not floating away and she couldn't force them away, not even here, where she was supposed to be able to escape.