Quotes About Reflection

It's not the first time in his life he's felt like a man.

And now I live with that sin of cowardice on my face forever.

Olmak istedi?imiz ki?i olamay?z her zaman.

I wouldn't mind that as my epitaph.

Dancers can look at a mirror, a writer can look at a page, and a painter can look at a canvas and see their work reflected back at them. But singers can only hear and feel what they are doing. After all the training, technique, use of breath, and placement of sound, it boils down to an emotional response to music and lyrics---and the way they touch one's heart and soul

Good God. He doesn't know me at *all*. How crushing. How illuminating. How ... potentially very useful.

Poetry was a barrier against raw emotions. It distilled them into bearable music, allowed one to accommodate them a little at a time. Alexander Moncrieffe

The message was sealed with a blob of wax but no press of a signet. She slid a finger beneath to crack the seal, and read: I apologize if I've ever behaved like an ass. It was the most romantic message she'd ever received. All other messages would strive to live up to it for the rest of her days. She was convinced of that in the moment.

Have you ever been in love?" "Colin. For the love of God." "I have," he said bluntly. "And when you lose love, it tears a hole out of you. The pain can be gruesome. I thought I lost Madeline once, and I swear for a few days I thought I might never be whole again." "Perhaps you should write a poem about it. Add another verse to your song.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a woman, I put away childish things.

Let's refer to it as Saturday, rather than the day of my hanging, shall we?

No, Kinkade," Chase said thoughtfully. "I don't think a woman can destroy you. You can't be destroyed because…there's nothing to destroy. I warrant that you just reflect whatever's near you. Like a puddle of mud. You reflect honor if you're near it. You reflect decay if you're near it. Left to your own devices, you've no moral center at all, no concern except for your own pleasure. This is the result.

One of heartbreak's chief qualities seemed to be its ability to distort time and distances.

One only ever saw a fraction of someone, whatever it was they chose to show you, and extrapolated a whole person from that. And saw them through a prism of one's own prejudices.

Her mind was obsessively playing and replaying his words of five minutes ago. And finally she could contain them no longer. 'Was she pretty?' she mimicked the vicar's creaky tones. 'Very,' she answered, in a very good imitation of the viscount's own baritone. Kit snorted a laugh. But really, Kit had waxed almost lyrical about Caroline Allston--- Caro, no doubt. Susannah wondered of Caro was carved on the viscount's heart the way it was on the oak, scarred and thick with age.

She settled upon the hound. She met its brown eyes. It blinked slowly in what she liked to think was sympathy. Neither of them wanted to be where they were at the moment.

It was all there was of life: moments of grace between the upheavals and changes.

When she pulled it out, something tum- bled out along with it: a soft copper lock of her own hair. She went blank for a moment, thrown oddly off bal ance. The things lined up neatly on the floor in front of her were like words to a sentence in a language she had only begun learning, a sentence punctuated poignantly by a copper curl. They told a story Rebecca sensed she already half knew, she could feel it radiating, increasing in light, on the far reaches of her awareness.

Sometimes the only choices we have, even the ones made out of love, isolate us.

All the shiny surfaces reflected the other shiny surfaces, as though the house was in love with itself and couldn't stop winking and preening.

Does she make you laugh?" He thought about this. "She laughs a good deal when I'm about," he allowed. Did Colin Eversea really want to be laughed at rather than with his entire life? He was the most maddening person she'd ever met, but his humor contained angles; he used it both to deflect and persuade. And if one could see around it, one would see into vulnerability.

What I know is you can't go back. You can't press delete and re-key your life.

I'm wearing clothes in my thoughts and dreams though. What am I wearing in yours? she asked. Me. Conversation between Mary Rose and Harrison in Julie Garwood's FOR THE ROSES

Iain didn't go back to sleep for a long while. He continued to think about all the logical reasons he would never allow himself to be turned into a lovesick weakling like Patrick, and when he finally fell asleep, he had convinced himself that he would distance his heart from his mind. He dreamed about her.