Quotes About Introspection

Hild wasn't listening. He wondered what paths she walked in her head.

Lying naked and cold beneath the perfect, whispering dark, I imagined I could feel the curve of the earth under my back, that I circled the whole planet so that my soles touched the top of my head and I blended with the dirt.

Gemæcce, Hild thought, staring at the pattern. She looked up, found Begu looking at her, blushed, looked down again. After a breath of two, she looked up.

She left her hood down, letting the rain cling to her hair, wanting to hear while her body walked and her mind wandered.

For a moment Peretur could not speak, only sit with sensation flickering up and down her belly and back, like a school of fish swimming in and out of the light.

The first thing that caught her eye was one of J.C. Dahl's huge paintings of fjord light and water. She stood before it and her restlessness dropped away. She became as still as the deep dark of the fjord. I know if I put my hands on her shoulders, they would be soft and relaxed. This was a Julia I had not seen before: distant, analytical, expert.

Hild watched them and the other not-yet-girdled girls-Cille and Leofe, who were already meant for each other, and half a dozen younger-and wondered when her mother might choose her gemæcce and who it might be.

I wandered, paying no particular attention, just absorbing the city through the soles of my shoes and the taste on my tongue.

She could smell herself: rich, sleek, ready.

She closed her eyes, willing her vision to rise from the blood-spattered green mountainside.

No one knew me; there was no one to compare my behaviour in the shop with my behaviour at other times. I could be fluid and responsible only to myself.

I was hungry for another viewpoint, to see Julia for the first time.

Watch women and men, put yourself inside them. Imagine what they're thinking.

Sometimes I think I know you, know who you are deep down, better than you know yourself. You think efficiency is the key to your personality, but it's not. You're a sensualist, a hedonist of the first order. Look at the way you cradle that cup, the way you tilt your face to the sun like a flower." "It's efficient. Absorbing heat means my body doesn't have to create its own." "But it's also delicious.

The shadows around her loomed longer and darker. She didn't know what her light was.

Hild slipped away to sit in the moon shadow of a tufted dune with the sheathed knife in her lap and listen to the night breeze in the grass and think about nothing in particular.

I wanted to know about the woman who thought this was something I had done, but I wasn't in any particular hurry. Let her come to me.

Man matures when he stops believing that politics solves his problems.

There is an illiteracy of the soul which no diploma cures.

Only he lives his life who observes it, thinks it, and says it; the rest let life live them.

Reading is an unsurpassable drug, because more than just the mediocrity of our lives, it allows us to escape the mediocrity of our souls.

Everything that makes man feel that mystery envelops him makes him more intelligent.

El suicidio más acostumbrado en nuestro tiempo consiste en pegarse un balazo en el alma.

In unremarkable texts we soon trip on phrases that penetrate into us, as if a sword has thrust up to its hilt inside us.