Quotes About Introspection

It may be true that in any society defective types with low vitality like myself are doomed to perish, not because of what they think or anything else, but because of themselves. I have, however, some slight excuse to offer. I feel the overwhelming pressure of circumstances which make it extremely difficult for me to live.

Masks in one layer after another—as many as ten or twenty—had fastened themselves upon me, and I could no longer tell how sad any one of them really was.

It's a faculty absolutely unique to man—having secrets.

If you don't give a damn what the rest of the world is up to, you can be alone for a hundred years—a thousand years—with no difficulty whatsoever.

The incomprehensibility of society is the incomprehensibility of the individual. The ocean is not society; it is individual.

I should like to record that as I manipulated the peeling lacquer chopsticks to eat my jelly, I felt unbearably lonely.

Even now, I barely have the strength to reread what I've written.

For some reason, filters on cigarettes seem dirty to me. If you were going to smoke, then it had to be unfiltered. Smoking those Shikishimas throws a person's whole character into question.

No less than myself, though in a different way, he was entirely removed from the activities of the human beings of the world. We were of one species if only in that we were both disoriented.

I also like to take my glasses off and look at people. The faces around me, all of them, seem kind and pretty and smiling. What's more, when my glasses are off, I don't ever think about arguing with anyone at all, nor do I feel the need to make snide remarks. All I do is just blankly stare in silence.

Most drinkers are lonely men, isolated in their own homes. To ask whether they drink because they're isolated or isolated because the rest of the family disapprove of their drinking would be like clapping and trying to decide which hand made the sound—it can only lead to a lot of vain quibbling.

Crime and Punishment. Dostoievski. These words grazed over a corner of my mind, startling me. Just supposing Dostoievski ranged 'crime' and 'punishment' side by side not as synonyms but as antonyms. Crime and punishment-- absolutely incompatible ideas, irreconcilable as oil and water. I felt I was beginning to understand what lay at the bottom of the scum-covered, turbid pond, that chaos of Dostoievski's mind--no, I still didn't quite see...

Mi vida ha estado llena de verguenza. La verdad es que no tengo la más remota idea de lo que es vivir como un ser humano.

Por lo que parece, mi concepto de la felicidad está en completo desacuerdo con el del resto de las personas, y la intranquilidad que genera me hace dar vueltas y gemir por las noches en mi cama. Incluso ha llegado a afectar me la razón.

Me pregunto si soy feliz.

I find it difficult to understand the kind of human being who lives, or who is sure he can live, purely, happily, serenely while engaging in deceit. Human beings never did teach me that abstruse secret.

The incomprehensibility of society is the incomprehensibility of the individual.

I drop steadily, inevitably, into unhappiness, and I have no specific plan to stave off my descent.

Desde pequeño, ni siquiera tenía la menor idea de los sufrimientos de mi propia familia o de lo que pensaba. Sólo estaba bien al corriente de mis propios miedos y malestares. En algún momento, me convertí en un niño que nunca podía decir la verdad.

Horiki mostraba hacia los objetos de su casa una posesividad que alcanzaba hasta los cordones del cojín. Pensándolo después, a Horiki no le había costado ni un céntimo el divertirse conmigo.

Cependant, à ce moment, j'étais encore incapable de donner leur sens réel à ces mots : « Je veux mourir. » Une idée d'amusement s'y cachait.

Eu sou um gato, de Soseki,

Kitap okuma denilen ?ey benden kopar?l?p al?n?rsa, hiçbir hayat deneyimi olmayan ben a?lanacak hâlde olurdum galiba.

I'm the fool who doesn't know the limits of stupidity.