Quotes About Introspection

our biggest problem is that we don't know what our problem is. We keep stepping in the same puddle. Why do I do the very thing that will guarantee my own unhappiness over and over again?

A hurtful act is the transference to others of the degradation which we bear in ourselves. —Simone Well

every few minutes. Harrington did it

Was this rock bottom? Had he finally hit it?

She was tired, her back was aching, and her life was.

It's me, though. It's my fault for being like this. I'm going to have to get used to it.

Was it cathartic or a form of self-torture?

Ellie closed her eyes and felt the aching loneliness well up inside her chest.

Well that's because I wasn't always like this.' Henrietta paused, examining her knuckles. 'I built a wall around myself.

The longest and most expensive journey you will ever make is the one to yourself.

Note to self-give serious thought to becoming an alcoholic.

I've given up men. It's true. At first, I was just going to give up attorneys, but that seemed immature - and far too exclusive, so I'm playing it safe and giving up all the penis-carrying humans.

Are you in love with me, the me I am right now? Well not right now, he said, brooding. Right now you're kinda mean. -Tara and Logan

Colbie looked at Spence. "Are you sure you're not in a relationship with Elle?" "No, I'm in a relationship with bad judgment.

How am I supposed to make big decisions when I still have to sing the alphabet to myself to alphabetize stuff?

I'm not defined by someone I thought I was dating, Luke, or what I do for a living. I'm not defined by what people think of me. My happiness comes from within, and I—

Opening my mouth never works as well as keeping it shut and minding my own business." Hud

What is it with us?

She stilled in the early-morning sun and slowly turned to face Parker, who'd followed her out. He wore his clothes with the same ease he'd worn nothing at all. And dammit, she really needed to stop thinking about that.

She spent a lot of time letting people see only what she wanted them to—a hardworking professional woman on top of her game. And yet somehow in a matter of days she'd revealed herself to him, letting him see someone else entirely. The real her, maybe.

But love? I don't think I'm really cut out for that particular emotion. I question everything too much.

I'm an ass." "I appreciate you realizing that.

She realized the murderous urges suggested that she, in fact, did not have this, but hey, no one was perfect.

People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring. —Rogers Hornsby