Quotes About Reflection

I remember running down a road on my way to a nursery of flowers. I remember her smile and her laugh when I was my best self and she looked at me like I could do no wrong and was whole. I remember how she looked at me the same way even when I wasn't. I remember her hand in mine and how that felt, as if something and someone belonged to me.

All I know is what I wonder: Which of my feelings are real? Which of the mes is me? There is only one me I've ever really liked, and he was good and awake as long as he could be.

Your hope lies in accepting your life as it now lies before you, forever changed. If you can do that, the peace you seek will follow. Forever changed. I am forever changed.

Is today a good day to die?

What would I have said to him if I'd known I would never see him again?

The problem with people is they forget that most of the time it's the small things that count. Everyone's so busy waiting in the Waiting Place.

You might expect me to say "life," having just woken up and all, but it's only when I'm awake that I think about dying.

Everyone in my life is a stranger, and that includes me.

You might not want to burn your bridges when you're standing on an island.

Is today a good day to die? Is today the day? And if not today–when?

Let me ask you something. Do you think there's such a thing as a perfect day?" "What?" "A perfect day. Start to finish. When nothing terrible or sad or ordinary happens. Do you think it's possible?" "I don't know." "Have you ever had one?" "No." "I've never had one either, but I'm looking for it.

My beloved boat is broken on the rocks of daily life. I've paid my debts and no longer need to count pains I've suffered at the hands of others. The misfortunes and the insults. Good luck to those who remain.

You can't do this to me.You were the one who lectured me about living.You were the one who said I had to get out and see what was right in front of me and make the most of it and not wish my time away and find my mountain because my mountain was waiting, and all that adds up to life.But then you leave.You can't just do that.

I've always thought you should be able to freeze time. This way you could hit the Pause button at a really good point in your life so that nothing changes

Sometimes all I did all day was just wander around in my mind.

I run until time stops. Until my mind stops.

I hate you. If only I'd known. If only I'd been enough . I let you down. I wish I could have done something. I should have done something. Was it my fault? Why wasn't I enough? Come back. I love you. I'm sorry.

I skim through our notebook, thick with words, and then through our Facebook messages—so many now—and then I write a new one, quoting Virginia Woolf: "Let us wander whirling to the gilt chairs.… Are we not acceptable, moon? Are we not lovely sitting together here Ã¢â'¬Â¦?

One entire wall is covered in pictures and Post-it notes and napkins and torn pieces of paper.

Along those lines, accept any and all thoughts (don't be afraid of them no matter what they are).

But all the scary stuff doesn't really compare to getting lost in your own mind.

It's only when I'm awake that I think about dying.

I like writing, but I like a lot of things. Maybe out of those things, I'm best at writing. Maybe it's what I like best of all. Maybe it's where I've always felt most at home. Or maybe the writing part of me is over. Maybe there's something else I'm supposed to do instead. I don't know.

The thing I can't, won't, mention to him is that I see Finch everywhere—in the hallways at school, on the street, in my neighborhood. Someone's face will remind me of him, or someone's walk or someone's laugh. It's like being surrounded by a thousand different Finches. I wonder if this is normal