Quotes About Introspection

He looked at her amiably, as though she were a nice sofa. That must be the penalty of the grey hairs, the tired shadows under the eyes, that must be the beginning of getting old. She had noticed it. Young men looked at you as though you were a nice sofa, an article of furniture which they would never be desirous of acquiring.

Going back to Walter's house had been like visiting a cemetery where there were no tidy tombstones recording beginnings and endings but only question marks over the graves.

All my life I'd thought of myself as an essentially good person, but all I'd been was comfortable.

her books are shot through with painful parties and awkwardly inane dining-table conversation,

We were editors of our own selves, revealing only what we wanted to show. Being only what served us best. Trust was an enormous act of faith. And faith… God , faith was hard.

But I've been the queen of crazy for the last few months. The last year, really. Who am I kidding? My entire life I've been at the epicenter of crazy. I am the hurricane's eye.

Writing is a cop-out. An excuse to live perpetually in fantasy land, where you can create, direct and watch the products of your own head. Very selfish.

The journey inward is what gives meaning to the life outside ourselves. Not in any static, dogmatic, once-for-all way either, but in a way that grows and develops and changes to meet different circumstances, different stages of development. Contemplation is not an optional extra -- it is, as much as action, part of the very stuff of being human." 

kažkas yra ?simylimas ne tod?l, kad b?t? simpatiškas ar nesimpatiškas ir visai ne d?l t?kstan?io ger? žmogaus savybi?. ?simylimi žmon?s, kurie pažadina gyvenimui kažk? tavo paties viduje.

J'ai la foi en l'humain en autant que l'humain reconnait ce qu'il y a de bon en lui.

I was certain t find the familiar sting of salt, but what I needed to know was what kind: kitchen, sweat, tears or the sea.

My self-righteous rage burns until I am forced to concede that I, in fact, have told them nothing. This language that I dip into like a dry inkwell has failed me.

It is all very well seeking yourself, but not when you find that ultimately you don't enjoy the company you may end up keeping.

You're just as shitty as we are

In a nutshell, I am not unaware of my failings. Neither am I a stranger to irony.

I'm rambling again. Wandering off the point. But this is the true story of my wasted life...

E' un meccanismo difensivo, sai. Tu sei sicuro che uno che non ti ha mai visto ti considererebbe un pezzo di merda, e quindi cerchi di anticiparlo. Rilassati ragazzino. Quando ti conosceranno meglio capiranno che avevano ragione: sei proprio un pezzo di merda.

You're convinced that anybody who meets you for the first time will consider you a shit, so you take preventive action. Relax, boychick. When they get to know you better they will realize that they were right. You are a shit.

And what if Miriam and I were never to be reconciled?

The most difficult struggle of all is the one within ourselves. Let us not get accustomed and adjusted to these conditions. The one who adjusts ceases to discriminate between good and evil. He becomes a slave in body and soul. Whatever may happen to you, remember always: Don't adjust! Revolt against the reality!

People who live in glass houses might as well answer the door.

Bodies wear out to remind us they are temporary, and force us to spend more thought on our spirits

Nobody truly knows me, but I suppose that's the way it is for everyone. Or at least I hope so. We seem to have the tendency to put on a front in the best interests of ourselves, but eventually these fronts weld themselves to us until we no longer recognize our own soul in the mirror.

As soon as you concern yourself with the "good" and "bad" of your fellows, you create an opening in your heart for maliciousness to enter.