Quotes About Thoughts

Later these thoughts would come back to haunt me, though I could not have anticipated that your compulsion to manhandle your unruly, misshapen experience into a tidy box, like someone trying to cram a wild tangle of driftwood into a hard-shell Samsonite suitcase, as well as this sincere confusion of the is with the ought to be—your heartrending tendency to mistake what you actually had for what you desperately wanted—would produce such devastating consequences.

Se supone que los hombres piensan en el sexo todo el tiempo, pero él ya no lo hacía, y ahora lo recordaba con tanta fuerza que dolía.

A destructive thought process exists within all of us, and we are plagued to varying degrees by an internal dialogue that is harmful, restrictive, and at its ultimate extreme, self-destructive.

They implicitly trust that their thoughts, beliefs, and feelings are their own, and fail to recognize that they may be "channeling" someone else's thoughts and feelings.

And when thoughts wiggle their way in, sometimes it can be very difficult for them to wiggle out again.

Sometimes memories hit like a wallop, all of a sudden, and hard. Other times, for no reason that anyone can explain, memories take much longer to sink in. They seem to meander a bit before choosing which mind to settle into.

There was a hint of something lingering in her mind. A memory, perhaps, although Jo could only catch the flavor of a few remaining tendrils.

Every day we have a choice about whether we react or respond to life. The first step in that direction is becoming self-aware and aligning our conscious and subconscious minds, where our Imposters live. In short, it's about becoming aware of our Imposters (negative thoughts in our heads).

Thoughts of destiny and cause-and-effect and how maybe if that girl wasn't working in that bar . . . maybe someone else on the other side of the planet would be unable to come up with a cure for cancer.

With physical prep work, you know if you go to the gym, you will get size. There's no chance it won't happen. The emotional prep work is a variable. You could step onto the set one day and have a disconnect with your thoughts and feelings and have a rough day acting because you can't quite tap into what you need.

By silencing the mind, we can experience real peace. As long as various kinds of thoughts agitate the brain, we don't experience 100 percent peace.

A person believes various things at various times, even on the same day.

The state of minds vary according to the angle under which one examines them.

You watch enough TV, and very soon the inside of your head has become a vast, arid plain, across which you cannot detect the passage of a thought.

I don't forget nothing. It's a vault up here.

Memory is funny. Once you hit a vein the problem is not how to remember but how to control the flow.

I don't tweet because I don't need another creative venue. I don't need another form for self-expression. I don't need another way to get my thoughts out to people. I have one. I'm good.

A novel is utterly your own creation, a very private process. I think of a novel as a noun and a screenplay as a verb. In a novel, very little needs to happen; you can explore a person's memories and thoughts and fantasies. In a screenplay, it's all action; you must push the story on.

'Kiss Land' wasn't about what people wanted to hear on the radio. It was the state of mind I was in - introverted, like David Cronenberg's 'Naked Lunch.' You didn't know if you were hearing a chorus or a verse. It was just my thoughts.

Now I think of no one anymore. I don't even bother looking for words. It flows in me, more or less quickly. I fix nothing, I let it go. Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up: I forget them almost immediately.

Ce qu'il y a, c'est que je pense très rarement; alors une foule de petites métamorphoses s'accumulent en moi sans que j'y prenne garde et puis, un beau jour, il se produit une véritable révolution. C'est ce qui a donné à ma vie cet aspect heurté, incohérent.

Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there's no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns: I have to fi... I ex... Dead... M. de Roll is dead... I am not... I ex... It goes, it goes... and there's no end to it. It's worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it.

Now I think of no one any more. I don't even bother looking for words. It flows in me, more or less quickly. I fix nothing, I let it go. Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up: I forget them almost immediately.

Truly random thoughts don't exist.