Quotes About Introspection

I am too old for this. I was born too old for it, and so I am sick to death for quiet.

The reason you will not say it is, when you say it, even to yourself, you will know it is true: is that it? But you know it is true now.

In the notseeing and the hardknowing as though in a cave he seemed to see a diminishing row of suavely shaped urns in moonlight, blanched.

He began to breathe deep. He could feel himself breathing deep, as if each time his insides were afraid that next breath they would not be able to give far enough and that something terrible would happen, and that all the time he could look down at himself breathing, at his chest, and see no movement at all, like when dynamite first begins, gathers itself for the now Now NOW, the shape of the outside of the stick does not change

He thought that it was loneliness which he was trying to escape and not himself.

There are some things which happen to us which the intelligence and the senses refuse just as the stomach sometimes refuses what the palate has accepted but which digestion cannot compass _occurences which stop us dead as though by some impalpable intervention, like a sheet of glass through which we watch all subsequent events transpire as though in a soundless vacuum, and fade, vanish; are gone, leaving us immobile, impotent, helpless; fixed, until we can die.

She accepted that--not reconciled: accepted--as though there is a breathing-point in outrage when you can accept it almost with gratitude since you can say to yourself, 'thank God, this is all; at least I now know all of it--

I have but one rift in the darkness, that is that I have injured no one save myself by my folly, and that the extent of that folly you will never learn.

She said nothing. She walked beside me, under my elbow sort of, eating. We went on. It was quiet, hardly anyone about getting the odor of honeysuckle all mixed She would have told me not to let me sit there on the steps hearing her door twilight slamming hearing Benjy still crying Supper she would have to come down then getting honeysuckle all mixed up in it   We reached the corner.

Ze sÅ'uchawkÄ… w rÄ™ce patrzyÅ' na drzwi, przez które wpadaÅ' ten bÅ'Ä™dny i dra?niÄ…cy powiew. ZaczÄ…Å' cytowa? coÅ› z jakiejÅ› dawno czytanej ksi??ki: "Spokoju coraz mniej! Spokoju coraz mniej!

Adesso, affacciato alla finestra, sente soltanto gli immensi, interminabili insetti, respira il caldo, immobile, ricco odore maculato della terra, pensando a quanto, da giovane, da ragazzo, amava l'oscurità, a come la notte camminava oppure si sedeva fra gli alberi. Allora il terreno, la corteccia degli alberi, tutto diventava vero, ricco, selvaggio, evocava strani e minacciosi mezzi piaceri, mezzi terrori. Ne aveva paura. Lo spaventava; amava aver paura.

looking out upon the whatever ogreworld of that quiet village street with the air of children born too late into their parents' lives and doomed to contemplate all human behavior through the complex and needless follies of adults

and Judith, the young girl dreaming, not living, in her complete detachment and imperviousness to actuality almost like physical deafness.

Some looked at him as they passed, at the man sitting quietly behind the wheel of a small car, with his invisible life ravelled out about him like a wornout sock.

Man knows so little about his fellows. In his eyes all men or women act upon what he believes would motivate him if he were mad enough to do what the other man or woman is doing.

When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.

Todo hombre tiene el privilegio de destruirse a sí mismo siempre que no haga daño a nadie, siempre que viva para sí mismo y de sí mismo

I feel better! I feel! I feel!" until he quit that too and said quietly, looking at the familiar wall, the familiar twin door through which he was about to pass, with tragic and passive clairvoyance: "Something is going to happen to me.

Mrs Armstid does not rattle the stove now, though her back is still toward the younger woman. Then she turns. They look at one another, suddenly naked, watching one another; the young woman in the chair, with her neat hair and her inert hands upon her lap, and the older one beside the stove, turning motionless too, with a savage screw of gray hair at the base of her skull, and a face that might have been carved in sandstone. Then the younger one speaks.

And I did not think that Darl would, that sits at the supper table with his eyes gone further than the food and the lamp, full of the land dug out of his skull and the holes filled with distance beyond the land.

Why are you Anse. I would think about his name until after a while I could see the word as a shape, a vessel, and I would watch him liquify and flow into it like cold molasses flowing out of the darkness into the vessel, until the jar stood full and motionless: a significant shape profoundly without life like an empty door frame

Quizá muramos en ese instante en que nos damos cuenta, en que admitimos, que el mal tiene una estructura lógica.

Quizá muramos en ese instante en que nos damos cuenta, en que admitimos, que el mal tiene una estructura lógica.

Our brother Darl in a cage in Jackson where, his grimed hands lying light in the quiet interstices, looking out he foams.