Quotes About Reflection

There is noting wrong with not understanding yourself.

It's true, I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of the world moving forward without me, of my absence going unnoticed, or worse, being some natural force propelling life on. Is it selfish? Am I such a bad person for dreaming of a world that ends when I do?

Don't you find that strange? I can't believe I never found it strange before. It's like your name, how you don't notice it for so long, but when you finally do, you can't help but say it over and over, and wonder why you never thought it was strange that you should have that name, and that everyone has been calling you that name for you whole life.

Ich versuche mich an alles zu erinnern, was ich getan habe, Oskar. Und alles, was ich nicht getan habe. Die Fehler, die ich begangen habe, sind mir egal. Aber was ich nie getan habe, kann ich auch nicht zurücknehmen.

There was a single thought in my head: Keep thinking. Thinking would keep me alive. But now I am alive, and thinking is killing me. I think and think and think.

He was caught somewhere between his mother's last kiss and the first kiss he would give his child, between the war that was and would be

The horse at the bottom of the river, shrouded by the sunken night sky, closed its heavy eyes. The prehistoric ant in Yankel's ring, which had lain motionless in the honey-colored amber since long before Noah hammered the first plank, hid its head between its many legs, in shame.

Is this why you think you are chosen by God, because only you can understand the funnies that you make about yourself?

My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.

There are times when one needs to disappear while in the living room, and sometimes one simply wants to disappear.

I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?

Isn't it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing, though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn't going to be a room to bury anyone anymore?

I went to my grandmother... and asked her to write a letter. I hardly knew her. I didn't have any interest in knowing her. I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me. What kind of letter? my grandmother asked. I told her to write whatever she wanted to write. You want a letter from me? she asked. I told her yes. Oh, God bless you, she said.

What we forget about animals we begin to forget about ourselves.

So many days in their shared life. So many experiences. How had they managed to spend the previous sixteen years unlearning each other?

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.

It made me start to wonderif there were other people so loney so close. I thought about Eleanor Rigby. It's true, where do they all come from? And where do they all belong?

I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live, Oskar. Because if I were able to live my life again, I would do things differently. I would change my life. Foer, Jonathan Safran (2006-04-04). Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel (Kindle Locations 1939-1940). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.

Hayat?m?n en güzel günlerinden biri, hayat?m? yaÅŸad???m ve hayat?m hakk?nda hiç düÅŸünmediÄŸim bir gündü.

she saw through the shell of me into the center of me … She went home with her father, the center of me followed her, but I was left with the shell of me

What's so great about feeling and dreaming?

Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York was in heavy boots.

I will walk without noise and I will open the door in darkness and I will

None of my pets know their own names, what kind of person am I?