Quotes About Thoughts

The true thoughts that go on inside us are just too fast and huge and all interconnected for words to do more than barely sketch the outlines of, at most, one tiny little part of us at any given instant.

It is extremely difficult to stay alert & attentive instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monolog inside your head.

What's unendurable is what his own head could make of it all. What his head could report to him, looking over and ahead and reporting.

I begin to feel as though my thoughts and voice here are in some way the creative products of something outside me, not in my control, and yet that this shaping, determining influence outside me is still me. I feel a division which the outside voice posits as the labor pains of a nascent emotional conscience.

Lenz on the way home finds himself under huge hydrolystic compulsion to have Green right there by his side—or basically anyone who can't get away or won't go away—right there with him, and to share with Green or any compliant ear pretty much every experience and thought he's ever had, to give each datum of the case of R. Lenz shape and visible breath as his whole life (and then some) tear-asses across his mind's arctic horizon, trailing phosphenes. He

you can't keep the thoughts from popping in there. The thing they try to teach you is just to Let Them Go, the thoughts. Let them come as they will, but do not Entertain them.

There are a thousand thoughts lying within a man that he does not know till he takes up a pen to write.

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; For now hath time made me his numbering clock: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans Show minutes, times, and hours.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?

When the mind's free, The Body's delicate.

If your mind dislike anything obey it

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run, that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts...

If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.

But thoughts the slave of life, and life, Time's fool, And Time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop.

Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.

For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang, To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm, And never shall it be more gracious.

I'll call for pen and ink and write my mind

Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.

Make not your thoughts your prisons.