Quotes About Introspection

I didn't do anything during the game. I only had one shot on goal and I did not create any chances. I was horrible. Maybe I should have left the pitch earlier.

My goal before I die is to get all of my thoughts out.

Writing is a really good first step toward that goal of knowing yourself.

Hopefully as you get older you get more selfless. That would be probably a good goal. I don't know if we do, though.

While you are so busy trying to make yourself humble, many are persistently and quietly promoting themselves.

My rights, my wrongs, I write 'til I'm right with God.

I found I had less and less to say, until finally, I became silent, and began to listen. I discovered in the silence, the voice of God

When there's something in the Word of God that I don't like, the problem is not with the Word of God, it's with me.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'

Tell me I'm clever, Tell me I'm kind, Tell me I'm talented, Tell me I'm cute, Tell me I'm sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I'm perfect-- But tell me the truth.

Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you

I hardly said a word to my wife until I said 'yes' to divorce.

Only when one has lost all curiosity about the future has one reached the age to write an autobiography.

Old age is far more than white hair, wrinkles, the feeling that it is too late and the game finished, that the stage belongs to the rising generations. The true evil is not the weakening of the body, but the indifference of the soul.

It is easy to become a monk in one's old age.

I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.

In the world a man lives in his own age; in solitude in all ages.

In middle age we are apt to reach the horrifying conclusion that all sorrow, all pain, all passionate regret and loss and bitter disillusionment are self-made.

It was one of the deadliest and heaviest feelings of my life to feel that I was no longer a boy. From that moment I began to grow old in my own esteem -and in my esteem age is not estimable.

At middle age the soul should be opening up like a rose, not closing up like a cabbage.

In this age of crowds in which I have determined to be a solitary, perhaps the greatest sin would be to lament the presence of people on the threshold of my solitude.

At times is it seems that I am living my life backward, and that at the approach of old age my real youth will begin. My soul was born covered with wrinkles-wrinkles that my ancestors and parents most assiduously put there and that I had the greatest trouble removing.

Perhaps middle-age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of the ego.

By the age of fifty, you have made yourself what you are, and if it is good, it is better than your youth.