Quotes About Introspection

She found that the whole world could be contained in one place because that place was herself. Nothing had prepared her for this.

To escape from the weight of the world, I leave my body where it is, in conversation or at dinner, and walk through a series of winding streets to a house standing back from the road.

When I sing the dogs sit quiet and people who pass in the night stop their jabbering and discontent and think of other times, when they were happy. And I sing of other times, when I was happy, though I know that these are figments of my mind and nowhere I have ever been.

How is it that one day life is orderly and you are content, a little cynical perhaps but on the whole just so, and then without warning you find the solid floot is a trapdoor and you are now in another place whose geography is uncertain and whose customs are strange?

So just you take care, what you think is the heart might well be another organ.

Once you start recognizing your own obsessions, you know you're getting old.

What you think is the heart might well be another organ.

I like to see the people arriving. I like to imagine their lives. It keeps me from thinking too much about my own. A man shouldn't be too introspective. It weakens him. That is the difference between Tennessee Williams and Ernest Hemingway. I'm a Hemingway man myself although I don't believe it is right to hunt lions.

I had lines inside me-a string of guiding lights. I had language.

What is unconscious does not speak and that includes the hidden parts of himself.

De ce sunt oare oamenii lasati s? creasc? f?r? a avea aparatura necesar? pentru a lua deciziile morale cele mai s?n?toase?

I have learned, painfully, over the years that the things I regret in my life are not errors of judgement but failures of feeling.

And God? Truly? In his own right, without our voices speaking for him? Obsessed I think, but not passionate.

And then I saw that the running away was a running towards. An effort to catch up with my fleet-footed self, living another life in a different way.

Only later, much later, too late, did I understand how small she (Mrs Winterson) was to herself. The baby nobody picked up. The uncarried child still inside her.

No man believes what he does not feel to be true. I should like to unbelieve myself. I sleep at night and wake in the morning hoping to be gone. it never happens. One knee forward, one knee bent, I bear the world.

I know what I think, but words in the head are like voices under water.

What is your story sir? I said. That is the dilemma, he replied. I do not know if I am the teller or the tale.

Engem nem a tények érdekelnek, Domino, hanem az, hogy hogyan érzek. Az, ahogy akkor érezni fogok, más lesz; arra akarok emlékezni, ahogy most érzek.

In what way am I any better? She is smug. I am cynical. She is puffed-up. I am punctured. I watch her gamely finding the energy to thrash about on life's greasy surface, while I lie paralysed, croaking about another life I think I can see.

My own heart, like this wild place, has never been visited, and I do not know whether it could sustain life.

Every day in my consultancy, I meet men and women who are out of their minds. That is, they have not the slightest idea who they really are or what it is that matters to them. The question 'How shall I live?' is not one I can answer on prescription.

It took me a long time to realise that there are two kinds of writing; the one you write and the one that writes you. The one that writes you is dangerous. You go where you don't want to go. You look where you don't want to look.

If you do wrestle with it and find the spring of its opening it will be a place to rest in all the days of your life.