Quotes About Introspection

The truth is a hard mirror, and I am in no mood to look upon my reflection.

Of course, he was absolutely correct, it was no concern of mine. So naturally I thought about it--excessively.

I hesitated for all the right reasons. And I accepted for all the wrong ones.

whilst I reboarded my train of thought.

He was entirely happy alone. He had his books and his music and his specimens, and that was all he needed. He also carried on a wide correspondence. His friends were far flung across the globe, but none of them intimate.

Ah, do not mistake solitude for loneliness," he advised. "A man may be lonely in a crowd, or he can be quite content in the society of the natural world.

The vicar likes to talk about the great wall that exists in all of us, the end place at which each of us will say 'That is as far as I shall go.' He is very interested in how those walls are formed.

Lonesome is habit," she said with a shrug. "One that can be broken.

I sat for a long time, uncomfortable both with the person I had been and the person I was finally becoming. Caught between the two of them, I felt rather lonely, as one often does with a new acquaintance.

The days are very alike here, the hours of darkness long and bleak, and I am a stranger to myself.

I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.'" "A

You are maudlin and sentimental, and it is high time you took a rather hard look at yourself and realized you are in danger of becoming ridiculous.

I can only quote Xenocrates, dear lady. 'I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.

I tipped my head.

Sometimes you have to call people out. Do that a time or two, and they learn pretty quickly how dangerous mirrors are. They rarely like seeing themselves.

It's amazing what the possiblity of romance can do to you. I'm self-conscious now in ways I never was before.

Those questions you have? Whether he's the one, whether you feel about him the way you should, or whether the relationship is going okay? When you're not sure whether you're in love with someone or not, the answer is not.

At the root of every large struggle in life is the need to be honest about something that we do not feel we can be honest about. We lie to ourselves or other people because the truth might require action on our part, and action requires courage. We say we "don't know" what is wrong, when we do know what is wrong; we just wish we didn't. Art lets us tell the truth, but even art can be something to hide behind.

I'd always thought telling the truth to other people was hard, but maybe that was a snap compared to telling the truth to yourself. Sometimes we just refused to know what we knew.

I am beginning to think there are two kinds of people," she said. I waited. "Those who forgive themselves too easily but will not forgive others." "And?" I asked. "Those that forgive others too easily but will not forgive themselves.

But then there are the van Goghs and Hemingways and Mozarts, those who feel a hunger so deep, so far down, that greatness lies there too, nestled somewhere within it. Those who get their inner voice and direction from the cool mysterious insides of the moon, and not from the earth like the rest of us.

Your only job—and it's a big one—is to try to speak and live your own honest truth. That truth might shift. You might need more time to even understand what that truth is. That's it. That's the job. Trying to manage or control everyone else? Not the job. Impossible, besides.

She doesn't bother to tell him that he should not be sorry, that he is not responsible for any of those things. She doesn't bother because they are both chronic apologizers, and chronic apologizers know that sorry is also just sorrow for the general state of the world.

Blessed books--they're a place to be alone, and no one else can come in.