Quotes About Introspection

Mnie wiÄ™c nie wolno byÅ'o siÄ™ przyglÄ…da? i staraÅ'em siÄ™ nie widzie?, ale, majÄ…c przed sobÄ… Fryderyka, który siedziaÅ' obok niej na Å'aweczce, znów natrÄ™tnie zapytywaÅ'em siebie: czy widziaÅ'? Czy wiedziaÅ'? I czyhaÅ'em na jedno chocia?by spojrzenie jego, z tych niby obojÄ™tnych a przeÅ›lizgujÄ…cych siÄ™ chyÅ'kiem, Å'akomych.

A Fryderyk, Fryderyk, co wiedziaÅ' o tym Fryderyk, gaszÄ…cy papierosa, bawiÄ…cy siÄ™ gaÅ'kami chleba? Fryderyk, Fryderyk, Fryderyk! Fryderyk, siedzÄ…cy tutaj, umieszczony przy tym stole, w tym domu, na tych polach nocnych i w tym kÅ'Ä™bowisku pasji! Ze swojÄ… twarzÄ…, która byÅ'a jednÄ… wielkÄ… prowokacjÄ…, poniewa? nade wszystko wystrzegaÅ'a siÄ™ prowokacji. Fryderyk!

Niespiesznie stÄ…paÅ' i zatrzymywaÅ' siÄ™, oglÄ…daÅ' krzaki, zamyÅ›lony, jego mÄ…dry profil pochylaÅ' siÄ™ nad liÅ›ciami, abstrakcyjnie. Ogród byÅ' cichy. Znów podejrzenia moje rozwiewaÅ'y siÄ™, ale pozostaÅ'o jedno, trujÄ…ce: ?e on przed sobÄ… udaje. JakoÅ› zanadto siÄ™ ruszaÅ' w tym ogrodzie.

I can say without exaggeration that I "devoted myself" to literature. For me, literature is not a matter of a career and future monuments but the excavating from myself of the maximum value of which I am capable. If it were to turn out that that which I write is inconsequential, then I am defeated not only as a writer but as a man.

En la mitad del camino de mi vida me encontré en una selva oscura... Y algo peor aún: aquella selva era verde.

If a blind man were to ask me "Have you got two hands?" I should not make sure by looking. If I were to have any doubt of it, then I don't know why I should trust my eyes. For why shouldn't I test my eyes by looking to find out whether I see my two hands? What is to be tested by what?

If people could see into my heart, I should almost feel ashamed - all there is cold, cold as ice.

It's very hard to keep your spirits up. You've got to keep selling yourself a bill of goods, and some people are better at lying to themselves than others. If you face reality too much, it kills you.... you've got to find an answer to the question: Why go on?

I read in self-defense.

In formulating any philosophy the first consideration must always be: What can we know? That is, what can we be sure we know, or sure that we know we knew it, if indeed it is at all knowable. Or have we simply forgotten it and are too embarrassed to say anything? Descartes hinted at the problem when he wrote, 'My mind can never know my body, although it has become quite friendly with my legs.

I was in analysis. I was suicidal. As a matter of fact, I would have killed myself, but I was in analysis with a strict Freudian and if you kill yourself they make you pay for the sessions you miss.

You're still in love' 'No I'm not, I'm not She'll always be a part of me, and she's an important person in my life but for the two of us something wasn't working.' 'What element?' 'We never found out

Abysmal vermin that I am, I couldn't of course tell her that it was her incredible mother that I wanted to see again… I knew only as I drove through the cold, night autumn air that somewhere Freud, Sophocles and Eugene O'Neill were laughing.

Self-obsession, that treacherous time waster.

O'Rouke'un orada bir bira içerken olanlar?n bir muhasebesini yapmaya çal??t?m. Ä°ÅŸler kar???kt?. Sokrates intihar etmiÅŸti... Ya da öyle olduÄŸunu söylüyorlard?. Ä°sa öldürülmüÅŸtü. Nietzsche ise delirmiÅŸti. EÄŸer yukar?da biri varsa bile kimsenin bunu bilmesini istemiyor gibiydi.

But the arguments we had over free will and monads, while heated, were never as combatative as the ones we had over our marriage. I knew I was in trouble when, in one philosophical discussion, Harlene proved I didn't exist.

Suddenly, one day, out of nowhere, an enormous abyss opened up beneath our feet and I was staring into a face I didn't recognize.

El cuento del lunático ¿Quién soy yo para exigir la perfección? Yo, el cúmulo de los defectos.

I always took to anything that required solitude...it kept me from having to deal with other humans who, for no explainable reason, I didn't like nor trust.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking; I hated nature, and more than nature I hated being a car owner.

When asked if Mia Farrow's character Hanna in Hannah and her sisters was a good sister or bad sister) SB: And now , in retrospect, have you made up your mind yet? WA: Well, in retrospect, I think she's not so nice. If you look closely, she's not as nice as you imagine.

And then I started to think, that the less I know about what people think of my work, the better off I am.

Suddenly, he heard a horrible sound and realized it was his own voice.

What if I've been wrong all these years? he thought. What if the infinite universe does not have a personal grudge against me?