Quotes About Reflection

Toad," she said presently, "just listen, please. I have an aunt who is a washerwoman." "There, there," said Toad, graciously and affably, "never mind; think no more about it. I have several aunts who ought to be washerwomen." "Do be quiet a minute, Toad," said the girl. "You talk too much, that's your chief fault, and I'm trying to think, and you hurt my head

He was silent for a time; and the Water Rat, silent too and enthralled, floated on dream-canals and heard a phantom song pealing high between vaporous grey wave-lapped walls.

Indeed, I have been a complete ass, and I know it.

For instance, when I flung the cat out of an upper window (though I did it from no ill-feeling, and it didn't hurt the cat), I was ready, after a moment's reflection, to own I was wrong, as a gentleman should. But was the matter allowed to end there? I trow not.

Look for wisdom and keep looking until you find it. When you do find it, you will become troubled. When you become troubled, you will be amazed, and you will come to rule the world.

I wasn't ready For you. I understood nothing Seemingly except my feelings You were whirling In your life I was keeping Everything in my head To Marina

Poetry, which is written while no one is looking, is meant to be looked at for all time.

The very existence of poetry should make us laugh. What is that all about? What is it for?

All of us know history repeats itself, but mighty few of us recognize the repetition until too late.

the vague thought passed through my mind that all of us, probably, would die like that: unexpectedly, in the middle of something we wanted to do, instead of at the end of our endeavors, as we always fondly believe.

Sanity? Sorry, but I don't remember having such a useless thing in the first place.

Why hell, look at us. Old men alone. Decrepit old bachelors out here in the country seventeen miles from the closest town which don't amount to much of a good goddamn even when you get there. Think of us. Crotchety and ignorant. Lonesome. Independent. Set in all our ways. How you going to change now at this age of life? I can't say, Raymond said. But I'm going to. That's what I know.

You're going to die some day without ever having had enough trouble in your life. Not of the right kind anyway. This is your chance.

People in their houses at night. These ordinary lives. Passing without their knowing it. Bid hoped to recapture something. The officer stared at him. The precious ordinary.

Alene looked out toward the fading sky. There was only a little light remaining. It would turn nighttime now and soon they would return to the house. I would be too cool to sit outside. It would get dark out. I'm so lonely, she said. I had my chance and I lost it.

I'm talking about getting through the night, she says. And lying warm in bed, companionably. Lying down in bed together and you staying the night. The nights are the worst. Don't you think? Yes. I think so, he says. Our souls at night

They don't come to church on Sunday morning to think about new ideas or even the old important ones. They want to hear what they've been told before, with only some small variation on what they've been hearing all their lives, and then they want to go home and eat pot roast and say it was a good service and feel satisfied. But

Mi chiedevo se ti andrebbe qualche volta di venire a dormire da me. Cosa? In che senso? Nel senso che siamo tutti e due soli. Ce ne stiamo per conto nostro da troppo tempo. Da anni. Io mi sento sola. Penso che anche tu lo sia. Mi chiedevo se ti andrebbe di venire a dormire da me, la notte. E parlare. Sto parlando di attraversare la notte insieme. Le notti sono la cosa peggiore, non trovi?

When he reached the wire gate he stopped and stood looking back toward the horse barn and the cow lots. Then he raised his head and peered up at the stars. He spoke aloud. You dumb old son of a bitch, he said. You dumb old ignorant stupid son of a bitch. Then

Quante volte sono entrato e uscito da quella porta. Non è così, Mary? Secondo te quante volte, caro? Sei giorni alla settimana, cinquantadue settimane all'anno per cinquantacinque anni, rispose lui. Quanto fa? Fa una vita intera. È vero. È la vita di un uomo, disse Dad

As the weather held that fall Louis often walked out at night past her house and looked at the light shining upstairs in her bedroom, her bedside lamp that he knew and the room with its big bed and dark wooden dresser and the bathroom located down the hall, and remembered everything about the room and the nights lying in the dark talking and the closeness of it all.

FORTY YEARS AGO

He should of taken it last year.

People in their houses at night. These ordinary lives. Passing without their knowing it. He'd hoped to recapture something. The officer stared at him. The precious ordinary.