Quotes About Thoughts

If one is to deal with people on a large scale and say what one thinks, how can one avoid melancholy? I don't admit to being hopeless, though: only the spectacle is a profoundly strange one; and as the current answers don't do, one has to grope for a new one, and the process of discarding the old, when one is by no means certain what to put in their place, is a sad one.

The real novelist, the perfectly simple human being, could go on, indefinitely imaging.

The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.

Pray heaven that the inside of my mind may not be exposed

My head is a hive of words that won't settle.

In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.

Let us turn over the pages, and I will add, for your amusement, a comment in the margin.

The streamers of my consciousness waver out and are perpetually torn and distressed by their disorder.

It flattered her, where she was most susceptible of flattery, to think how, wound about in their hearts, however long they lived she would be woven...

How was one to lasso her mind, and tether it to this minute, unimportant spot?

Oh, to awake from dreaming!

Cierra con llave tus bibliotecas, si quieres, pero no hay barrera, cerradura, ni cerrojo que puedas imponer a la libertad de mi mente.

How readily our thoughts swarm upon a new object, lifting it a little way, as ants carry a blade of straw so feverishly, and then leave it.

She lives in dreams, alone.

thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning—fresh as if issued to children on a beach.

Queer, I mused, to see what we were thinking five years ago.

Swelling, perpetually augmented, there is a vast accumulation of unrecorded matter in my head.

He would argue with her about killing themselves; and explain how wicked people were; how he could see them making up lies as they passed in the street. He knew all their thoughts, he said; he knew everything. He knew the meaning of the world, he said.

For it was extraordinary to think that they had been capable of going on living all these years when she had not though of them more than once all that time. How eventful her own life had been, during those same years. Yet perhaps Carrie Manning had not thought about her either. The thought was strange and distasteful.

Still, there's no harm in putting a full stop to one's disagreeable thoughts by looking at a mark on the wall... Here is something definite, something real. thus, waking from a midnight dream of horror, one hastily turns on the light and lies quiescent, worshipping the chest of drawers, worshipping solidity, worshipping reality, worshipping the impersonal world which is proof of some existence other than ours.

and it was a relief when they went to bed. For now she need not think about anybody.

Los ojos de los otros, nuestras prisiones; sus pensamientos, nuestras jaulas.

And for some reason she held the sentence suspended without meaning in her mind's ear, "…quite enough for everybody at present," she repeated. After all the foreign languages she had been hearing, it sounded to her pure English. What a lovely language, she thought, saying over to herself again the common place words…

So, when there is a strife of tongues, at some meeting, the chairman, to obtain unity, suggests that every one shall speak in French. Perhaps it is bad French; French may not contain the words that express the speaker's thoughts; nevertheless speaking French imposes some order, some uniformity.