Quotes About Introspection

Perhaps it was only that the sense of reaching out to something larger than yourself gives you some feeling that there is something larger—and there really has to be, because plainly you aren't sufficient to the situation. I surely wasn't. Ian

I hadn't spent so much time in bemused contemplation of a penis since I was sixteen or so, and here I was, preoccupied with three of the things.

Grey sat in his bedchamber, unshaven and attired in his nightshirt, banyan, and slippers, drinking tea and debating with himself whether the authoritative benefits conferred by wearing his uniform outweighed the possible consequences - both sartorial and social - of wearing it into the slumps of London to inspect a three-day-old corpse.

He could feel the shape of his eyeballs beneath his lids, round and hot, tasty bits of jelly rolling restless to and fro, looking vainly for oblivion, while the rising sun turned his lids a dark and bloody red.

astutely observes that a Man's sense of

mouth worked a little, but he shook his head. "I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ no. Perhaps 

furrowed. "Let

But Ã¢â'¬Â¦ do you actually do anything?" I asked. "Er, pray, I mean?" "I? Well," he said slowly, "I sit, and I look at Him." A wide smile stretched the fine-drawn lips. "And He looks at me.

admitting a dubious

I? Well," he said slowly, "I sit, and I look at Him." A wide smile stretched the fine-drawn lips. "And He looks at me.

Diana Gabaldon

the hardening spreads from the center, as one finds and fixes the facets of the soul, until "I am" is set, delicate and detailed as an insect in amber.

A man who spends his time pokin' his ....... nose into other's sinfulness has nay time to tend his own.

clouds of distress. "I—well Ã¢â'¬Â¦ I think so.

But places held tight to the things that had happened in them, and to come again to a place you had once lived was to be brought face-to-face with what you had done there and who you had been.

They had learned not to expect him to talk until he had shaved; words came hard after a month's solitude. Not that he could think of nothing to say; it was more that the words inside formed a logjam in his throat, battling each other to get out in the short time he had. He needed those few minutes of careful grooming to pick and choose, what he would say first and to whom.

I lay still, wondering exactly what was the matter with me. Or rather, not what, but why. I knew by now what it was, all right; it was jealousy. I was indeed jealous; an emotion I hadn't felt for some years, and was appalled to feel now. I

Do you know—" he began, then stopped. He looked down at his clenched hands, then, not at me. A blue stone winked on one knuckle, bright as a teardrop.

remained on hands and knees, eyes narrowed thoughtfully

You'd think so, wouldn't you?" I said bleakly. "But I don't know, any more than you.

At first he had thought the loneliness would kill him, but once he had learned it would not, he came to value the solitude of the mountainside.

No queríamos pensar, ¿sabes? Y es fácil no hacerlo. Durante un tiempo.

Her entrance was greeted by a general outcry of cordiality that made her mildly ashamed of her cynicism.

I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ am not quite sure, to tell you the truth. Perhaps it is only an effort to reconcile my memories of last night with the Ã¢â'¬Â¦ er Ã¢â'¬Â¦ actuality of the experience?