Quotes About Reflection

She was not ready to go home and start imitating someone she used to be.

There is a spectre inside every photograph.

There are vertical swimmers and horizontal swimmers, she said. I myself have sometimes thought I will become a vertical swimmer. No one says I have to do the third act of my life. It is always nasty. If I become ill in old age, I have not ruled it out.

that most of us don't go through with it, but we have at least walked our minds on this forbidden pasture and let them graze there?

The Poet wipes her eyes on the corner of my tablecloth. 'Perhaps the modern tragedy, Lapinski, is that we weep and do not know what we are weeping for. This is quite different from catharsis.' She suddenly throws back her head and roars with laughter; her gold teeth rattle

Too much of oneself can be projected into the silence

Our task is not to solve enigmas, but to be aware of them, to bow our heads before them and also to prepare the eyes for never-ending delight and wonder.

Remove the Curtain of your Heart and see the Beloved sitting inside yourself. Close your Ears to the Outside and hear the Cosmic Sound going on within you. Intro to Part 2, Chapter 1. Credit given to Mira, poet-saint of Rajastan.

'Thank you power' is writing down the moments that are good in your life so that you can go back and reflect on them - so you've got this sort of repository of good stuff in your past.

Maybe life isn't about being one way or the other. Perhaps the answers we are looking for come from everywhere–our faith, our brains, and our hearts.

What is in our hearts is never a one-way street. Only as children when we're too young to understand the signs do we love unrequitedly. If you love, it's because you feel its power reflected back on you.

My fault, again. Dr. Blake said I also handled the beads incident wrong when I reported that a couple of weeks later.

As satisfied as I was that I had accomplished what I had set out to do, I realized that the journey I had resolved to take did not end after the completion of the book. I have learned that each journey begets another one and life has a way of exponentially creating new roads to follow.

We all have alternate lives we might have lived had we made different decisions, including decisions about whom to marry. I

Everything we say to each other echoes with meanings left over from our past experience— both our history talking to the person before us at this moment and our history talking to others. This is especially true in the family— and our history of family talk is like a prism through which all other conversations (and relationships) are refracted.

IT'S 1996; MY father is eighty-eight. I arrive for a visit at their Westchester condo. My mother greets me at the door. After we've hugged and kissed, my father appears at the end of the hallway. It's taken him longer to rise from his chair. He isn't carrying the cane he finally agreed to use after his last fall. He stumbles, but the wall catches him. Something inside me rebels: who stole my father and put this old man in his place?

It was past dark when I reached the city and I'd mostly shoved my ghosts back into their graves. I let the gray mare pick her own pace and browse in the grain fields along the way.

Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance - each beautiful, unique and too soon gone.

The symphony true,' said Finesse. 'I think it's what's left when all the noise stops, when you get quiet and listen for your own true heart.

He knows solitude. He knows its pleasure and its power. He knows it is a home you can occupy.

thoughts, he paused using a

So I placed my heart under lock and key To take some time, and take care of me But I turn around and you're standing here

Whatever is eating her brain consumes only the fresher memories, the unripe moments

Once she had thought that she might discover some key to her mother if only she could get her likeness right, but she has since learned that the mysteries of another person only deepen, the longer one looks.