Quotes About Reflection

Every story I create, creates me. I write to create myself.

Sometimes I wrote things because I couldn't say them, couldn't sort out my feelings about them, couldn't keep them bottled inside me.

I realized that I knew less about loneliness than I had thought - and much less than I would know when he went away.

To get along with God, Consider the consequences of your behavior. Earthseed: The Books of the Living

We'll have to be very careful how we allow our needs to shape us.

God is not to be prayed to. Prayers only help the person doing the praying, and then, only if they strengthen and focus that persons resolve.

I lost an arm on my last trip home.

There was no real comfort in being alone with her thoughts, her memories, but somehow the illusion of freedom lessened her despair.

What are you?" I whispered."What are we to you?" She lay still, rested her head on her topmost coil. "You know me as no other does," she said softly. "You must decide.

To survive, know the past. Let it touch you. Then let The past Go.

That's history. It happened whether it offends you or not. Quite a bit of it offends me, but there's nothing I can do about it.

but it took a plague to make some of the people realize that things could change.

Is a pea cut in half one wounded thing or two?

Sometimes writing about a thing makes it easier to stand.

We caused the problems: then we sat and watched as they grew into crises.

Do you think our world is coming to an end?" Dad asked, and with no warning at all, I almost started crying. I had all I could do to hold it back. What I thought was, "No, I think your world is coming to an end, and maybe you with it.

All prayers are to Self And, in one way or another, All prayers are answered. Pray, But beware. Your desires, Whether or not you achieve them Will determine who you become.

Reading these tales is like looking at a photograph of a child whom you only knew as an adult. In her eyes you can see the woman that you came to know much later—a face, not yet fully formed, that contains the promise of something that is now a part of you: the welcomed surprise of recognition in innocent eyes.

Then … Rufus's fear of death calls me to him, and my own fear of death sends me home.

Opening and closing her jacket, her hand touched the long scar across her abdomen. She had acquired it somehow between her second and third Awakenings, had examined it fearfully, wondering what had been done to her. What had she lost or gained, and why?

It's hard to believe that kind of thing happened here, in the United States in the twenty-first century, but it did.

Per me i cadaveri sono disgustosi. Puzzano e se sono lì da un po' sono pieni di vermi. Ma in fondo che cosa importa? Sono morti. Non soffrono più e se non ti piacevano quando erano vivi, perché turbarsi tanto ora che sono morti? Cory è rimasta sconvolta. Se la prende con me perché condivido il dolore dei vivi, ma lei cerca di condividerlo con i morti.

Stupid faith was good. Thinking and questioning were bad.

I hope people who read Parable of the Sower will think about where we seem to be heading--we the United States, even we the human species. Where are we going? What sort of future are we creating? Is it the kind of future you want to live in? If it isn't, what can we do to create a better future?