Quotes About Introspection

I was anxious to deal with this shadow by myself alone -- and to this day I don't know why I was so jealous of sharing with any one the peculiar blackness of that experience.

He feels it himself, and says often that he is 'preparing to leave all this; preparing to leave...' while he waves his hand sadly at his butterflies.

But what I felt most was my being a stranger to the ship; and if all the truth must be told, I was somewhat of a stranger to myself.

There must be a wonderful soothing power in mere words since so many men have used them for self-communion. Being

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return. We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there. At

Marlow ceased, and sat apart, indistinct and silent, in the pose of a meditating Buddha. Nobody moved for a time. We have lost the first of the ebb, said the Director, suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.

It was, in the night, as though I had been faced by my own reflection in the depths of a somber and immense mirror.

I wondered how far I should turn out faithful to that ideal conception of one's own personality every man sets up for himself secretly.

I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew.

I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying though the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew.

The work is not dear to me, but I'm glad for that which is in the work - a chance to find yourself.

how can you imagine what particular region of the first ages a man's untrammelled feet may take him into by the way of solitude--utter solitude without a policeman--by the way of silence--utter silence, where no warning voice of a kind neighbour can be heard whispering of public opinion? These little things make all the great difference. When they are gone you must fall back upon your own innate strength, upon your own capacity for faithfulness

Gewiss," he said, and stood still holding up the candelabrum, but without looking at me. "Evident! What is it that by inward pain makes him know himself? What is it that for you and me makes him — exist?

Senti que estava me tornando cientificamente interessante.

No quiero aburrirlos demasiado con lo que me ocurrió personalmente

I didn't know what he was playing up to—if he was playing up to anything at all—and I suspect he did not know either; for it is my belief no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self-knowledge.

I don't like work--no man does--but I like what is in the work, the chance to find yourself. Your own reality--for yourself, not for others--what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show and never can tell what it really means.

There is something peculiar in a small boat upon the wide seas. Over the lives born from under the shadow of death there seems to fall the shadow of madness.

It is when we try to grapple with another man's intimate need that we perceive how incomprehensible, wavering and misty are the beings that share with us the sight of the stars and the warmth of the sun.

It made you feel very small, very lost, and yet if it was not altogether depressing that feeling. After all, if you were small, the grimy beetle crawled on- which was just what you wanted to do.

Joseph Conrad

It is the privilege of early youth to live in advance of its days in all the beautiful continuity of hope which knows no pauses and no introspection.

When your ship fails you, your whole world seems to fail you; the world that made you, restrained you, has taken care of you. It is as if the souls of men floating on an abyss and in touch with immensity had been set free for any excess of heroism, absurdity, or abomination.

brooding over the upper reaches, became