Quotes About Introspection

Marcel Proust

But when it comes to the disconcerting actions of our fellow-men, we rarely discover their motives.

O olhar de Robert, com efeito, parecia por momentos atingir uma profundidade que abandonava em seguida, como um mergulhador que tocou o fundo. Esse fundo, que tanto mal fazia a Robert quando o tocava que ele o deixava imediatamente para voltar um instante depois, era a lembrança de que havia rompido com a sua amante.

É admirável como o ciúme, que passa o tempo a fazer pequenas suposições do que é falso, tem pouca imaginação quando se trata de descobrir o que é verdadeiro.

But, just as we are devoid of that sense of direction with which certain birds are endowed, so we lack the sense of visibility as we lack that of distances, imagining as close the concerned attention of people who, on the contrary, never give us a thought, and not suspecting that during this same time we are the sole preoccupation of others.

But what we call experience is only the revelation to our own eyes of one of our own character traits, which recurs naturally, and recurs all the more powerfully if we have already on some previous occasion brought it up into the clear light of consciousness, so that the spontaneous reaction which had guided us the first time becomes reinforced by all the suggestions of memory.

Benim nazar?mda bir hiç oldu?unu zannetti?im ?ey, demek ki asl?nda bütün hayat?m, her ?eyimdi. ?nsan kendini ne kadar az tan?yor!

Com os prazeres, dá-se o mesmo que com as fotografias. O que apanhamos na presença da criatura amada não passa de um negativo; revelamo-lo mais tarde, uma vez em casa, quando encontramos à nossa disposição essa câmara escura interior cuja entrada é proibida enquanto há gente à vista.

O que chamamos nossa conduta permanece ignorado de nosso mais próximo vizinho; o que esquecemos haver dito, ou que até nunca dissemos, vai provocar hilaridade até num outro planeta, e a imagem que os outros formam de nossos gestos e atitudes tampouco se parece com a que nós próprios formamos, como um desenho, um decalque malfeito, e onde ora a um traço negro corresponde um espaço vazio, e a um branco, um contorno inexplicável.

And then my thoughts, did not they form a similar sort of hiding-hole, in the depths of which I felt that I could bury myself and remain invisible even when I was looking at what went on outside?

Ogni lettore, quando legge, legge se stesso.

It is plain that the object of my quest, the truth, lies not in the cup but in myself.

Thus I who from infancy, had lived from day to day, with a sort of fixed idea of myself derived from others as well as myself, perceived for the first time, after witnessing the metamorphosis of all these people, that the time which had gone by for them, had gone by for me also and this revelation threw me into consternation.

En revanche, je crois bien qu'à mon agonie, quand tous mes autres " moi " seront morts, s'il vient à briller un rayon de soleil tandis que je pousserai mes derniers soupirs, le petit personnage barométrique se sentira bien aise, et ôtera son capuchon pour chanter: "ah! Enfin, il fait beau.

he asked himself whether this period, upon which he had entered, was to last much longer, whether presently his mind's eye would cease to behold that dear countenance, save as occupying a distant and diminished position, and on the verge of ceasing to shed on him the radiance of its charm.

Es ist unglaublich zu denken, dass jemand nicht begreifen kann, dass er sich, wenn er sich dazu herabwürdigt, über einen Mitmenschen zu lächeln, dem er eben noch die Hand gedrückt hat, in eine Gosse begibt, aus dem er sich beim besten Willen nicht wieder herausarbeiten kann.

One would be cured for ever of romanticism if one could make up one's mind, in thinking of the woman one loves, to try to be the man one will be when one no longer loves her.

For a long time, I went to bed early.

Then it would begin to seem unintelligible, as the thoughts of a former existence must be to a reincarnate spirit; the subject of my book would separate itself from me, leaving me free to choose whether I would form part of it or no; and at the same time my sight would return and I would be astonished to find myself in a state of darkness, pleasant and restful enough for the eyes, and even more, perhaps, for my mind, to which it appeared incomprehensible

?nsan mutsuz oldu?u andan itibaren ahlakç? olur.

tout cela qui prend forme et solidité, est sorti, ville et jardins, de ma tasse de thé.

Perhaps the immobility of the things around us is imposed on them by our certainty that they are themselves and not others, by the immobility of our mind confronting them.

Na realidade, todo leitor é, quando lê, o leitor de si mesmo. A obra não passa de uma especie de instrumento óptico oferecido ao leitor a fim de lhe ser possível discernir o que, sem ela, não teria certamente visto em si mesmo. O reconhecimento, por seu foro íntimo, do que diz o livro, é a prova da verdade deste [...].

Marcel Proust