Quotes About Introspection

dark, wet sides of the well dropped maybe

He had accepted that if you were a bookish person the events in your life took place in your head.

He was turning out to be one of those men whose interest diminished as they got to know you. You got into this pattern of trying to be interesting by revealing more and more of yourself, like a salesman unpacking his sample bag, but the man, though he looked like he was smiling and paying attention, was really shaking his head internally—not that, not that either, no I don't think so, not today.

I don't know what I mean, but I know I believe it.

Old Eileen leaned forward in her chair, thrusting her face closer to the child who had been gradually approaching her. Where is the centre of the world? she abruptly demanded. Esther stood silently in front of her, holding onto a book she had forgotten to put on a table. She did not know the answer to the riddle. The place where you stand, Old Eileen said. The place where you stand is the centre of the world.

We write not just to show off, not just to tell, or only to have written. We write to know ourselves.

Snow Speaks to the Mirror My nose is smudged, my hair in tangles. I do not like myself at angles. Skin's not clear, eyes all red. Another hour in my bed would be a gift, would feel real nice. But can I trust your strange advice? Don't be daft. I won't be guided by a glass that's so one-sided.

Truth is, I'm a good Catholic girl. The faith has always been elusive, but the guilt is intractable.

My eyes rolled so far back in my head that I could see myself think

If you can't fool yourself," he said, "how can you expect to fool anybody else?

I rolled my eyes so far into the back of my head I saw myself thinking.

The obvious reason, of course, was that I was jealous. I didn't like the obvious reason, so I kept working for another. Finally I gave up in defeat.

What did you ever see in Dickie Orr?" I'd asked myself that same question many times and never found a satisfactory answer. "He had a nice car," I said. Morelli's mouth curved. "Seems like a sound basis for marriage.

I was hungry, too. I didn't know what I was

When are you going to start saying nothing?

I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.

She was starting to think there might be such a thing as karma - that repetition - maybe you lived through the same thing over and over until you stopped caring. Maybe eventually it got less intense, until it was just nothing.

How can I shed tears for a man I should never have allowed to touch me in any way?

She's never where she is,' I said. 'She's only inside her head.

I took the volume to a table, opened its soft, ivory pages... and fell into it as into a pool during dry season.

What was the point in such loneliness among people. At least if you were by yourself, you had a good reason to be lonely.

She's never where she is,' I said. 'She's only inside her head.

What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?

A novel is like a dream in which everyone is you. They're all parts of yourself.