Quotes About Introspection

he wondered if, in his effort to get to safety, he wasn't fleeing from a wreck but causing it.

Fucked-up. Insecure. Neurotic. Egotistical.

He did not suggest that she sit quietly and get to know herself so she could be all the company she needed.

Non. He said, 'Be very, very careful who you let into your life. And learn to make peace with whatever happens. You can't erase the past. It's trapped in there with you. But you can make peace with it. If you don't,

They are four sentences we learn to say, and mean.' Gamache held up his hand as a fist and raised a finger with each point. 'I don't know. I need help. I'm sorry. And one other.' Gamache thought for a moment but couldn't bring it to mind.

It seemed Yolande had become so self-absorbed she no longer existed. She'd finally absorbed herself.

Still, it had been a revealing exchange, and that was his job. To get people to reveal themselves.

Clara saw what others couldn't. Like that little boy in The Sixth Sense, but instead of seeing ghosts, Clara saw good. Which was itself pretty scary. So much more comforting to see bad in others; gives us all sorts of excuses for our own bad behavior. But good? No, only really remarkable people see the good in others.

Ruth's last book of poetry was called I'm FINE. Which sounded good until you realized, often too late, that "F.I.N.E." stood for "Fucked-Up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Egotistical.

What a wonderful epitaph, thought Gamache. He cared for himself.

He had a lot to ponder and he knew that everything is solved by walking.

Anyone could run around, not many could quietly wait. As they did now. But that didn't mean Chief Inspector Gamache and Inspector Lacoste did nothing. As they waited they took in their surroundings.

You need to learn to say: I don't know. I'm sorry. I need help and I was wrong.

He felt in Three Pines he had a shot at being himself. What he hadn't counted on was it taking so long to figure out who 'he' was.

stick. It might look familiar to some of you,' she waited

It's too easy to feed the anger. Too cowardly to stoke the hate. You must look inside yourself and decide who you are and who you want to be. Character is not created in times like these. It's revealed. This is a trying time. A testing time. Be careful.

he even introduced himself as the Asshole Saint,

Não é dos outros, caro Brutos, a culpa, mas de nós mesmos, se nos rebaixamos ao papel de instrumentos» - in Julio Cesar de William Shakespeare

She shifted her seat and shoved the thought aside. After spending most of her life scanning the horizon for slights and threats, genuine and imagined, she knew the real threat to her happiness came not from the dot in the distance, but from looking for it. Expecting it. Waiting for it. And in some cases, creating it. Her father had jokingly accused her of living in the wreckage of her future. Until one day she'd looked deep into his eyes and saw he wasn't joking.

Armand Gamache had another skill that Brébeuf didn't seem to possess. He could disappear, when he chose. And it appeared he chose to disappear at that moment. Armand Gamache sat quietly. Almost a hole in the room.

He only stopped when he'd met himself again. The Armand who'd been standing on the side of the quiet road, in the middle of nowhere, waiting. At the intersection of truth and wishful thinking. Where the straight road splayed. And he knew then. They were all going down." p.40

understand your doubts. They're what make you a great man, not your certainties.

wondered why she chose her isolated

How'd he know there was a but? Not for the first time Beauvoir hoped Gamache couldn't actually read his mind. There was a lot of junk up there. As his grandfather used to say, 'You don't want to go into your head alone, mon petit. It's a very scary place.