Quotes About Reflection

I wanted to tell her everything, maybe if I'd been able to, we could have lived differently, maybe I'd be there with you now instead of here. Maybe... if I'd said, 'I'm so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything,' maybe that would have made the impossible possible. Maybe, but I couldn't do it, I had buried too much too deeply inside me. And here I am, instead of there.

The mistakes I've made are dead to me. But I can't take back the things I never did.

The only thing more painful than being an active forgetter is to be an inert rememberer.

I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone. I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it? What's so horrible about being dead forever, and not feeling anything, and not even dreaming? What's so great about feeling and dreaming?

I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: Do you like me?

I never confused what I had with what I was.

I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.

With writing, we have second chances.

I thought about all of the things that everyone ever says to each other, and how everyone is going to die, whether it's in a millisecond, or days, or months, or 76.5 years, if you were just born. Everything that's born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they're all on fire, and we're all trapped.

It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us...on the inside, looking out.

In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.

Mom told me, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be Grandma, don't you think?" I told her, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be anyone.

The only way to overcome sadness is to consume it.

There's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.

We talked about nothing in particular, but it felt like we were talking about the most important things...

is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.

We were quiet on the car ride home. I turned on the radio and found a station playing Hey Jude. It was true, I didn't want to make it bad. I wanted to take the sad song and make it better. It's just that I didn't know how.

I shook my tambourine the whole time, because it helped me remember that even though I was going through different neighborhoods, I was still me.

Each day has been chained to the previous one. But the weeks have wings. Anyone who believes that a second is faster than a decade did not live my life.

Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled. Each second was two hundred yards, to be walked, crawled. You couldn't see the next hour, it was so far in the distance. Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.

It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won't be awake for another five hours, but I can't help feeling that we're sharing this clear and beautiful morning.

The images of his infinite pasts and infinite futures washed over him as he waited, paralyzed, in the present.

Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled.

I looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.