Quotes About Introspection

In order for me to get right, I had to go back to Memphis, I had to close myself in, get in the studio, lock in, and just think about everything before all the ice, before the money, before everything, and just vent.

I looked into studying psychoanalysis, wrote to the governing body and was about to start the year where they psychoanalyse you, four times a week, before you get to do it yourself. I just thought I'd taken the ventriloquism as far as I could. My act is so deconstructive, and I'd made all the monkey jokes anyone wanted to hear.

I need to look back on my poetic ventures, make sense of them as a whole, and move forward... and to experiment without external demands.

In 2002 I did a big tour of Europe, by train, by myself, on foot, all the time walking from train station to the venue, in a weird town, in a weird country. I'd brought an acoustic guitar with me but it got broken somehow in transit.

I grew up as an only child. My parents weren't great conversationalists. We had a quiet house. I'm not very verbal.

I'm not a very verbal person.

I've put out a lot of stuff that just confused and alienated people: a huge chunk of songs that were verbal and musical challenges to myself, thoughts I was keeping myself busy with, nothing I had any intention of anybody grasping onto.

It was a struggle to find myself. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. There were too many defeats. I finally admitted defeat and went into therapy.

It is a distortion, with something profoundly disloyal about it, to picture the human being as a teetering, fallible contraption, always needing watching and patching, always on the verge of flapping to pieces.

I'm always on the verge of death in my head.

My friends ask me what it's like moving from Vermont to L.A., but no matter where I am, I pretty much just end up sitting in coffee shops, thinking about songs.

I left an office at the top of the Pan Am Building, a nine-room apartment, and a farm in Vermont because I was aching inside. It took an analyst to tell me I could write a note of permission to become a musician and sign it.

To walk into the hall of mirrors of Versailles as Louis XIV and deliver a monologue on your own in an empty hall of mirrors is like no other experience.

When I wrote 'Mushaboom', I was living in the second verse, but I suddenly found myself in the first.

'Kiss Land' wasn't about what people wanted to hear on the radio. It was the state of mind I was in - introverted, like David Cronenberg's 'Naked Lunch.' You didn't know if you were hearing a chorus or a verse. It was just my thoughts.

I feel like the better version of myself is on paper... I'd rather have people know me on paper.

I'm used to packing up and leaving, to condensing myself into a digestible version because people don't have much time to get to know me.

There's always so much music around me now, it seems like everything has to be something with music, so in my spare time I try not to listen to anything. It's so hard for me to listen to something without trying to see a benefit in it: 'Maybe I'll make my own version of that track or maybe I'll do this or that.'

In any relationship that comes to an end, there's never just a baseline reason why. You say, 'Oh, I broke up with my girlfriend.' Someone says, 'Why?' You say, 'Well, you got three hours? And then maybe after I tell you my version, you've got to talk to her.'

Sometimes I can receive the world and regurgitate my version of events easily and sometimes it's hard.

Perhaps it is impossible to understand one's own face. Or perhaps it is because I am a single man? People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? You might say—yes you might say, nature without humanity. I have no taste for work any longer, I can do nothing more except wait for night. 5.30:

içimde olup bitenler, belirgin izler b?rakmad?.

ÅŸu son haftalar içinde bir deÄŸiÅŸiklik ortaya ç?kt?. ama nerede? hiçbir ÅŸeye baÄŸlan?lmayan soyut bir deÄŸiÅŸme bu. deÄŸiÅŸen ben miyim? ben deÄŸilsem ÅŸu oda, ÅŸu kent, ÅŸu doÄŸa; seçmek gerek. deÄŸiÅŸen benim san?yorum.

cette liberté, je l'ai cherchée bien loin ; elle était si proche que je ne pouvais la voir, que je ne peux pas la toucher, elle n'était que moi.