Quotes About Introspection

I don't hate myself, as a general rule. I'd say the best way to describe it is that I have moments of self-loathing at fairly regular intervals.

Despite my best efforts, I'm not quite perfect. Let's just say I'm like one of those Hopi blankets where they leave a tiny flaw so as to not affront the Lord.

When it's over and you look in the mirror, did you do the best you were capable of? If yes, you will probably be ok with the outcome

I like to write about the solitary things people do. Humans seem to function best when they're alone.

Middle age: when you begin to exchange your emotions for symptoms.

Once I planned to write a book of poems entirely about the things in my pocket. But I found it would be too long; and the age of the great epics is past.

Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.

With sixty staring me in the face, I have developed inflammation of the sentence structure and definite hardening of the paragraphs.

My first recognition of age setting in was exactly on my 36th birthday. I have no idea why, on this day of all days, I looked in the mirror and realized my face no longer looked young.

When I was in elementary school, I used to write letters to myself. I'd write letters and go 'Dear Kristen-at-16-years-old, happy birthday. I hope you're doing something.'

It's a question we all ask ourselves. What have we done lately? It rattles us each birthday.

I do things every day for my birthday. I'm just not a party girl.

Here I sit, alone at 60, Bald and fat and full of sin Cold the seat, and loud the cistern As I read the (Harpic) (Lysol) tin

I shall be thirty-one next birthday. My youth is gone like a dream; and very little use have I ever made of it. What have I done these last thirty years? Precious little.

I wish people would stop talking about my birthday.

I feel more mature than most people my age.

I'm not a big birthday guy; I never have been.

On your 60th, here's something philosophical To give the old grey matter a stir How old would you be If you didn't know how old you were?

Living the past is a dull and lonely business; looking back strains the neck muscles, causing you to bump into people not going your way.

Remember that no talent, no self-denial, no brains, no character, are required to set up in the fault-finding business. Nothing external can have any power over you unless you permit it.

That a man can take pleasure in marching in formation to the strains of a band is enough to make me despise him. He has only been given his big brain by mistake; a backbone was all he needed.

I minded my own business, and, unfortunately, so did everyone else.

It is the business of the artist to make humanity aware of itself.

What a fearfully distracting, perplexing and heart-searching business it is to live.