Quotes About Introspection

We are all our own graveyards I believe; we squat amongst the tombs of the people we were.

though she hurried him on, he dawdled, his head back, squinting at the stars. There were no revelations to be had there. Just pinpricks of light in a plain heaven. But he saw for the first time how fine that was. That in a world too full of loss and rage they be remote: the minimum of glory. As she led him across the lightless ground, time and again he could not prevent his gaze from straying skyward.

Yes, he knew his face was finely made, his forehead broad, his gaze haunting, his lips sculpted so that even a sneer looked fetching on them, but he needed a living mirror to tell him so.

Every man is his own Mephistopheles, don't you think?

Books are like people, when they are open they are red

Somos nuestros propios cementerios; nos instalamos entre las tumbas de las personas que éramos.

If you were alone on earth, what would you know? What the mirror told you, that's all. The rest would be myth and conjecture.

I have a smack of Hamlet myself , if I do say so .

In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.

look for a long time at what pleases you, and longer still at what pains you...

Look at your failed life, Joffrey: It is standing right in front of you

It is important to graps that boredom is one of the most common - and undesirable - consequences of 'unicameralism'. Boredom is a feeling of being 'dead inside'; that is to say, loss of contact with our instincts and feelings.

Un tom?r j?s p?r?em d?vaina tukšuma saj?ta — lai ko j?s dar?tu, nekam nav noz?mes. Tieši tas noteikti ir divdesmit? gadsimta mor?l? bankrota c?lonis.

Man must believe in realities outside his own smallness, outside the 'triviality of everydayness', if he is to do anything worthwhile.

I've read Joyce and Sartre and Beckett and the rest, and every atom in me rejects what they say. They strike me as liars and fools. I don't think they're dishonest so much as hopelessly tired and defeated.

What if the 'brutal thunderclap of halt' takes the form of the choice, Dishonesty or insanity?

Our findings point more and more to the conclusion that the Outsider is not a freak, but is only more sensitive than the 'sanguine and healthy-minded

the man who thinks too much is likely to go to exhausted extremes where the world becomes a shadowy paradigm of ideas. To keep sane he must continually come back to reality.

In The Secret Life we see the Outsider cut off from other people by an intelligence that ruthlessly destroys their values, and prevents him from self-expression through his inability to substitute new values. His problem is Ecclesiastes' 'Vanitatum vanitas'; nothing is worth doing.

In his embryonic form, as the Outsider, he does not know himself well enough to understand the driving force behind his feelings. That is why his chief concern is with thinking, not with doing.

Avevo letto da qualche parte la parola 'nichilismo' e a scuola chiesi al mio insegnante di inglese cosa significasse. Significa non credere in niente mi rispose, e subito seppi di aver trovato un nome per il mio stato d'animo. Non era solo mancanza di qualcosa in cui credere, era non credere, di fatto, in niente.

in the slow motion that is the speed of humiliation.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, because in the end, whatever goes down, whatever you get up to, your triumphs and transgressions, nobody actually understands what it means except for you.

Well, imagine you are alone in a room....Are you the best, most special person in the room right now? Yes. That's the gift of being alone.