Quotes About Thoughts

I've got so many ideas, and sometimes the more exhausted my body gets, the more active my mind gets.

When I think of Lee Rang, I also think of the death drive, 'Thanatos.'

I don't think about the Fonda legacy much.

I'm actually thinking about acting lessons. If somebody says to me, 'You can be in the movies,' I'd be pretty happy.

I don't think in a linear form.

Got so much to say, such little time.

For me, 'rich' isn't having lots of money; rich is having loads of things in your head.

I'm not a matchmaker, I don't know the logic behind the decisions they make.

If you're creating a story, it's a lovely sort of secret thing going on in your head.

I've never considered myself a lyricist, but I have stuff to say.

I remember making up songs in my head.

Right now, I'm not really thinking about marriage.

All these things that crib and cab in your brain, in your imagination, are in fact things that might well in later life drive you insane.

When I say narrative, I do not mean simply the plot, I mean considerably more. Plots and their shapes--the bare outlines of stories--were something I know J.R.R. Tolkien himself was interested in. When I was an undergraduate, I went to a course of lectures he gave on the subject--at least, I think that was the subject, because Tolkien was all but inaudible. He evidently hated lecturing, and I suspect he also hated giving his thoughts away.

Charles liked poetry because the lines were so short. You could think your own thoughts in the spaces around the print.

The daftest logic brings such sweet unrest.

He spoke in incomplete sentences, as though he had so much he wanted to say that he needed to leave out some of the words to save time.

An unrested mind is prone to wander into unfruitful avenues; it is nothing that a good night's sleep cannot cure.

Her quiet and kind listening had made it possible to speak his thoughts aloud, and sometimes it was only when he spoke his thoughts that he knew he had them. It was surprising how a man's mind might remain half in shadow until the right confidant appeared, and Maud had been that confidant.

By the time the words from the bank reached her, the thick white river mist had rinsed the urgency out of them. The words drifted into her ear, washed out and waterlogged, and sounded scarcely louder than the thoughts in her own head.

The cat, I remember.

Una mente fatigada tiende a tomar derroteros infructuosos; no hay nada que una buena noche de sueño no pueda reparar.

myself, I found that my thoughts had been rearranged in my absence.

The way one's mind can dash about just while one opens a window.