Quotes About Reflection

That's your shadow, my mom told me once. You need it more than you think.

Bad things happen and then they're over, but where do they go?

You spend a long time waiting for life to start – her past year or two filled with all these firsts, everything new and terrifying and significant – and then it does start and you realise it isn't what you'd expected, or asked for.

When you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss gazes into you. (~ Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche)

As Katie moved through the rooms, everything reminded her of everything:

how often do you realize something's a choice when you make it?

You spend a long time waiting for life to start-- her past year or two filled with all these firsts, everything new and terrifying and significant-- and then it does start and you realize it isn't what you'd expected, or asked for.

If it hadn't been what it was, it would've been beautiful.

I have another friend who gets what I'm really like, and I get her. She scares me. Did you ever see yourself times ten in another person and want to cover your eyes?

If we look at it from eye corners, or from places other than the center of our head, isn't there a kind of terrible beauty in it?

People forget that old women were young once, but d'you think we old women forget? In my heart, I'm still thirty.

Glitterdust across a broad expanse of blue. Before me, the water unfurled like dark swaths of shadowed silk, colors muted, reflections cast by the lamps hanging from the prows of the gondolas rippling, and my heart swelled at the beauty and the romance of it.

The echo of my thought startled me. The weight of the future it contained frightened me more than anything else

Then I saw it. Little pins of light that grew larger as I watched, a city that seemed to bloom from the darkness, spreading and spreading so that I couldn't tell what was real and what was only reflection.

Some memories fade to tender nostalgia, and some fade altogether,

The sunsets here in Venice are more intensely colored than they have ever been. Do you know why?" "Why?" His voice was very quiet. "Because of the smoke from the mirror and glass factories. There were only craftsmen before, not such manufacture. There was never such smoke. It's strange, don't you think, that something that so befouls the air can be so beautiful?" "Beauty from ugliness," he mused wistfully. "No. I don't think it strange at all.

losing a friend is like losing a language, and I miss the one we spoke together.

I thought that probably meant something - that we could only really look at each other through a looking glass. Literally. I didn't know where that thought came from, but I could feel that it was true. It had something to do with the two of us, seemingly so different, standing there side by side. There was no wall between us. But we both wanted to think there was.

How could he look exactly the same as he always did? How could he so nonchalantly shatter all the things I'd believed and bear no outward sign of it? I didn't understand. It seemed to me that if someone hurt you, there should be some kind of boomerang effect. They should get hit with it, too, so it wasn't just you. So they didn't get off scot-free while you marinated in the pain.

Memory can refuse to let you forget what you'd like to and run away with what you want to remember. It's an unreliable bitch, or your best friend. Sometimes, it's both at once.

But the problem with looking back when you should be walking ahead is that you usually end up walking into something that hurts.

When everything changes we learn who we really are. What's really important. What we want most. We discover the truth in moments of disarray.

I might be alone, but i'm never lonely.

There are few times when we know with absolute certainty we are going to do something for the last time. Life has a way of moving in circles, bringing us back to places we didn't expect and taking us away from those we do. There are too many times we don't pay close enough attention, and moments are lost in our assumption we'll have another chance.