Quotes About Introspection

Why do so many—not all, but many—run to see a crashed plane, or a train, or two autos with numerous dead about? Why? What is it? Weariness of humdrum and commonplace? Love of change? Horror of the same thing happening to themselves? Or is it something evil in them? In us? Do we like to see other people suffer when we ourselves are safe and don't suffer? Are we really just evil or a mixture of good and evil, whether we want to be or not?

staring out windows impossible to defenestrate therefrom.

to be a Muslim is to be an insomniac.

I was the kid who made a beeline for the library when the last bell rang, but also harder, because how do you define yourself against such an identity? On what grounds? With what confidence?

Any writer worth his salt writes to please himself...It's a self-exploratory operation that is endless. An exorcism of not necessarily his demon, but of his divine discontent.

I [Topsy] 'spect I grow'd. Don't think nobody never made me.

Still waters run deepest, they used to tell me.

My dear cousin, can you be satisfied with such a way of spending your probation?

I used to think, if there was anything in the world he did love, it was our dear little Eva; but he seems to be forgetting her very easily. I cannot ever get him to talk about her. I really did think he would show more feeling!" "Still waters run deepest, they used to tell me," said Miss Ophelia, oracularly.

Better mind yerselves

Laura's problem was that she kept casting men in roles they weren't suited for. Like lovely Josh, casting him in the role of decent, kind house-husband, the perfect partner, the modern male, when - what was it that she'd actually loved about him, really? Laura tried to think, and couldn't come up with an answer. He was a great man - kind, funny, clever, hard working - but there was no way he was the man for her, she realised now. Why hadn't she seen it?

Alone in her apartment, writing or thinking on her own, everything was always clear. It was talking aloud, interacting with people that tripped her up: It was reality she found difficult

A marital therapist recently teased me, "Are you writing another book to help women speak up? I'm trying to help my clients be quiet." Then she said more seriously, "Why do people think they have to tell each other everything they feel?

You know, Dad," Ben said matter-of-factly, "as we get closer and closer to home, I can just feel the layers of maturity peeling off me.

We can learn to sit more comfortably with our confusion. We can operate from a solid position of self, even when the other person won't speak to us at all.

It is amazing how frequently we march off to battle without knowing what the war is all about.

But is it not the fact that religion emanates from the nature, from the moral state of the individual? Is it not therefore true that unless the nature be completely exercised, the moral state harmonized, the religion cannot be healthy?

Try to realize it's all within yourself no one else can make you change, and to see you're only very small and life flows on within you and without you.

Writing is traveling through uncharted territory - your mind. You are the first traveler, and your essays are the world's first maps.

Then I stare at my face in the mirror for a minute or two, wondering if it feels like mine. In Bram Stoker's Dracula, the dark count is invisible in mirrors and I often feel something similar is true of me too. I can't feel any deep relationship between the face that is mine and the person I am. Like they're two different things. I don't

Famous for my ignorance, me.

He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.

I don't know what the point of mirrors is. They tell you what you already know.

To be self-reliant is to recognize that no one else is as concerned about your future as you are and that no one knows as much about you as you do.