Quotes About Reflection

me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn.

It was that juxtaposition of how it used to be with how it had turned out that made L.A. so interesting and so sad a place, I thought.

If you can't be alone," Jesse said, "you can't be with someone.

Then why don't you get married?" "I'm not sure. Mostly it's a question of how we'd affect each other, I suppose. Would

The light shone down on his plump face, reflected from his rimless glasses, bathed the pinkness of his scalp beneath the thinning sandy hair as he bent his head to resume reading.

Looking back, looking back and trying to figure what made you that way, several things stand out in your mind. There may have been more than several. Maybe there were a hundred. Maybe a thousand. Small events, little episodes, all pointing you in the same direction, so that you might think you had free will when you wobbled from side to side on the track, but there were no switches for you to throw, no turnings to choose.

She'd thrown something at the mirror, and then the mirror broke into a thousand pieces and she knew that wasn't all; she was breaking into a thousand pieces, too.

There are times when you must stop analyzing and depend on your emotions.

You make yourself sick.

He winced at the realization, then took a deep breath. This was no time to be self-conscious or self-critical. One had to be prctical. Very practical, very careful, very calm.

That was the most important thing. He had to stop talking to himself. He had to get back that calm feeling agan. He had to face reality. And what was reality?

Trivial, he echoed. Perhaps. Then again, maybe it's all in the way you look at it

The life of a painter demands solitude

Por qué personificamos al Tiempo? ¿Será porque tenemos que admitir que nuestras vidas están medidas por una fuerza abstracta, que ignora y tampoco le importa nada de lo referente a nuestra entrada en la existencia y nuestra partida en la muerte? El tiempo era algo misterioso; y, al darle un rostro y unas manos, intentamos convertirlo en nuestro servidor.

Talk about not knowing other people—why, when you came right down to it, you didn't even know yourself!

Do shadows cast shadows of their own?

One taste of the old time sets all to rights.

I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart, As a man calls for wine before he fights, I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights, Ere fitly I could hope to play my part. Think first, fight afterwards, the soldier's art: One taste of the old time sets all to rights.

What does it all mean, poet? Well, Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell What we felt only; you expressed You hold things beautiful the best, And pace them in rhyme so, side by side. 'Tis something, nay 'tis much: but then, Have you yourself what's best for men? Are you—-poor, sick, old ere your time—- Nearer one whit your own sublime Than we who never have turned a rhyme? Sing, riding's a joy! For me, I ride.

Our business was done at the river's brink;

I saw no use in the past: only a scene Of degradation, ugliness, and tears; The record of disgraces best forgotten;

O, wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us, An' foolish notion.

Gin a body meet a body Coming thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body— Need a body cry?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.