Quotes About Reflection

When you don't know what to do, go back to the places, the people and the promises where you know you last heard God.

We all need a moral compass. Before you say or do anything, check your inner G.P.S. by asking, "Does this show respect for God People Self?

Open your mind and clear it of all thoughts that would deceive.

We're all in this together. And every time we judge or think anything less than charitable about anyone, we crucify ourselves. We inflict self-pain.

there's no such thing as an idle thought and that all of us are way too cavalier and tolerant of our minds' wandering.

Nothing could be more vital than to be suspicious of the voice in my head.

Like sometimes when you go to a movie and you get so lost in the story that when you're walking out of the theater you can't remember anything at all about your own life.

I am walking down the street in Manhattan, Fifth Avenue in the lower sixties, women with shopping bags on all sides. I realize with some horror that for the last fifteen blocks I have been counting how many women have better and how many women have worse figures than I do. Did I say fifteen blocks? I meant fifteen years.

Sometimes I'm afraid the main reason I spend half of my life outdoors is simply because there aren't any mirrors.

I have always believed that if I pay strict attention while I am out in the physical world—and for me that often meant the natural world—the physical world will give me everything I need to tell my stories" (78). —Deep Creek: Finding Hope in the High Country

People are supposed to accumulate, I thought, as they get older, but I seem to be sloughing off, like a person wrapped in a hundred layers of cellophane, tearing one layer off at a time, trying to get down to me.

I'm just saying, I guess, there's another version, after this version, to look forward to. Because of wisdom or hormones or just enough years going by. If you live long enough you quit chasing the things that hurt you; you eventually learn to hear the sound of your own voice.

I have spent most of my life outside, but for the last three years, I have been walking five miles a day, minimum, wherever I am, urban or rural, and can attest to the magnitude of the natural beauty that is left. Beauty worth seeing, worth singing, worth saving, whatever that word can mean now. There is beauty in a desert, even one that is expanding. There is beauty in the ocean, even one that is on the rise.

And even if the jig is up, even if it is really game over, what better time to sing about the earth than when it is critically, even fatally, wounded at our hands.

what if you could have all the wisdom of a lifetime and still look like you looked when you were twenty-five' 'or what?' I say. 'what, what' she says. I say, 'I thought we were playing Would You Rather...?' She twists her head like a dog at a foghorn. 'Marla,' I say, 'you get the wisdom because you don't anymore look like you did when you were twenty-five.' She says, 'You don't understand the rules to this game.

How to hang on to that full-body joy I knew I was capable of and still understand it as elegy.

but for the rest of my own life, I want to live simultaneously inside the wonder and the grief without

Guenevere brought me a cookie and a big box of Kleenex. She said that choices can't be good or bad. There is only the event and the lessons learned from it.

It's hard for anybody to put their finger on the moment when life changes from being something that is nearly all in front of you to something that happened while your attention was elsewhere.

We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That's the most terrible, the most painful in my entire repertoire of self-torturing thoughts.

I see my own mother now, as clearly as I had the day she watched me leave. She should have fought for me, protected me with her life.

Alguien que no me abandonará?, pienso para mis adentros y deseo volver a ser joven, porque entonces tal vez lo hubiera creído.

No me he permitido pensar en esas cosas, sabiendo que, si me permitiera siquiera un goteo de recuerdos, me ahogaría en una marea que sería incapaz de frenar.

rousing myself from my memories.