Quotes About Introspection

because we were all catching on to the fact that some questions were better not asked. Piper

Espero para oír lo que va a decir sobre su amigo, pero se queda callado. Sigue hablando dentro de su cabeza. Frases enteras le pasan a toda velocidad delante de los ojos. No puedo leerlas.

Al año siguiente, cuando ya no nos hablábamos, pensé que su nueva personalidad realmente tenía sentido, que besar a chicos y fumar marihuana y salir de clase dando fuertes pisotones e insultar a los profesores y básicamente comportarse unas cien veces peor y más escandalosamente de lo que eres en realidad, es lo que hay que hacer para no pensar que tienes que volver a dormir en una casa triste y gris.

then I just closed my eyes and watched the blossom petals fall and

some people are lonely for all the right reasons. After

You know, I sometimes think that the most effective people in the world are introverts who taught themselves how to be extroverts.

We're talking about the novel, right? But maybe we're not. We're talking about ourselves. And I guess that's what can start to happen when you talk about a book.

Maybe that was what it was like to be a writer: Even with the eyes closed, you could see.

You didn't always need to be the dazzler, the firecracker, the one who cracked everyone up, or made everyone want to sleep with you, or be the one who wrote and starred in the play that got the standing ovation. You could cease to be obsessed with the idea of being interesting.

Sometimes it's easier to tell ourselves a story.

Without company, misery turns to sorrow, and sorrow turns inward, curling up in some dark, damp corner.

Greer had noticed, when she was very young, how, looking straight ahead, you could sort of always see the side of your own nose. Once she realized this it began to trouble her. Nothing was wrong with her nose, but she knew it would always be part of her view of the world. Greer had understood it was hard to escape yourself, and to escape the way it felt being you.

to find out what another human being feels, a person who isn't you; to get a look under the hood, so to speak. A deep look inside. That's what writing is supposed to do.

When you looked closely at anything, you could almost faint, Jules thought, although you had to look closely if you wanted to have any knowledge at all in life.

Greer had understood it was hard to escape yourself, and to escape the way it felt being you.

I'm beginning to think I feel too much. The feelings flood into me like so much water, and I am helpless against the onslaught.

But of course she liked Isadora less now, because she needed her less and saw her more clearly.

Standing in the heat and noise, facing the rows of bent heads, Ethan Figman willed himself to leave that long sleep in which you dream that the inhuman things that people do to one another on a distant continent have nothing to do with the likes of you.

If you ever wanted to get an accurate picture of who you are, Greer thought years later, all you had to do was look at everything you'd Googled over the past twenty-four hours. Most people would be appalled to see themselves with this kind of clarity.

Everyone tended to believe everything was their fault; maybe it was just hard to imagine, when you were still fairly young, that there were some things in the world that were just not about you .

She wondered if some people got to feel fully full, or whether it was everyone's fate to feel as if the state of being human was one in which the self was like a bag of something wonderful that had already been half-eaten.

How are any of us in this room supposed to care about anything, when we're constantly being pulled back by unbearable thoughts and feelings?

Why are we so hard on ourselves?" Asked someone with great plaintiveness. Faith thought, it's not that I'm so hard on myself exactly, it's that I've learned to adopt the views of men as if they were my own.

Being alone was something that Faith had perfected over the years. When you were alone you didn't have to worry about every little detail on your body, whether your legs were like prickly pears or whether after a cocktail party you were Brie-breathed. Unlike many people she knew, she often preferred her own company.