Quotes About Introspection

Instead of her soul swaying with new life, it seemed to droop, to bleed, as if it were wounded.

That's it! When you come to know men, that's how they are: too sensitive in the wrong place.

That's the place to get to—nowhere. One wants to wander away from the world's somewheres, into our own nowhere.

This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us.

I only want one thing of men, and that is, that they should leave me alone.

He always ran away from the battle with himself. Even in his own heart's privacy, he excused himself, saying, If she hadn't said so-and-so, it would never have happened.

For God's sake, let us be men not monkeys minding machines or sitting with our tails curled while the machine amuses us, the radio or film or gramophone. Monkeys with a bland grin on our faces.

Perhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.

She lived a good deal by herself, to herself, working, passing on from day to day, and always thinking, trying to lay hold on life, to grasp it in her own understanding. Her active living was suspended, but underneath, in the darkness, something was coming to pass. If only she could break through the last integuments!

Now go away then, and leave me alone. I don't want any more of your meretricious persiflage.

the more i live, the more i realize what strange creatures human beings are. some of them might just as well have a hundred legs, like a centipede, or six, like a lobster. the human consistency and dignity one has been led to expect from one's fellow-man seem actually non-existent. one doubts if they exist to any startling degree even in oneself.

He went down again into the darkness and seclusion of the wood. But he knew that the seclusion of the wood was illusory. The industrial noises broke the solitude, the sharp lights, though unseen, mocked it. A man could no longer be private and withdrawn. The world allows no hermits.

He knew that conscience was chiefly fear of society or fear of oneself.

He had reached the point where all he wanted on earth was to be alone.

I want to be gone out of myself, and you to be lost to yourself, so we are found different.

A man has no religion who has not slowly and painfully gathered one together, adding to it, shaping it; and one's religion is never complete and final, it seems, but must always be undergoing modification.

Religion was fading into the background. He had shovelled away all the beliefs that would hamper him, had cleared the ground, and come more or less to the bedrock of belief that one should feel inside oneself for right or wrong, and should have the patience to gradually realise one's God. Now life interested him more.

Vaguely she knew herself that she was going to pieces in some way. Vaguely she knew she was out of connection: she had lost touch with the substantial and vital world. Only Clifford and his books, which did not exist... which had nothing in them. Void to void. Vaguely she knew. But it was like beating her head against a stone.

Te iubesc foarte mult.. dar undeva, lipseÈ™te ceva. - Unde? întreb? ea privindu-l. -O, în?untru, în mine. Eu ar trebui s? m? ruÈ™inez.. sunt un olog psihic.

For my part, life is so many things I don't care what it is. It's not my affair to sum it up. Just now it's a cup of tea. This morning it was wormwood and gall. Hand me the sugar.

Every man who is acutely alive is acutely wrestling his own soul.

And she had discovered him, discovered in him a rare potentiality, discovered his loneliness.

It was like something lurking in the darkness within him...There is remained in the darkness, the great pain, tearing him at times, and then being silent.

With Mrs. Morel it was one of those still moments when the small frets vanish, and the beauty of things stands out, and she had the peace and the strength to see herself.