Quotes About Introspection

Poetry and Hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. And all you can do is to go where they can find you.

Well, he was humming this hum to himself, and walking along gaily, wondering what everybody else was doing, and what it felt like, being somebody else

Here I am in the dark alone, What is it going to be? I can think whatever I like to think, I can play whatever I like to play, I can laugh whatever I like to laugh, There's nobody here but me.

Antony could never resist another person's bookshelves. As soon as he went into the room, he found himself wandering round it to see what books the owner read, or (more likely) did not read, but kept for the air which they lent to the house.

Then Piglet saw what a Foolish Piglet he had been, and he was so ashamed of himself that he ran straight off home and went to bed with a headache.

All the same he got a pinch of misery, thinking, just as he had sometimes in Kentucky when he'd be out in the woods, feeling good that he was alone, with everything to himself, and then he would spy someone and it would all be spoiled, as if the country wasn't his any more, or the woods or the quiet.

She'd also begun to feel like this might not be the best place for her after all. "I

I have seldom written poetry unless I was rather out of health.

Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle

my afternoons are the least intellectual part of my life

Qué dulces néctares y aromas emergerán una vez que se revelen las profundidades de tu esencia.

It's a long ride home with nothing but me for company. I bore myself sometimes. Not often. Just now and again.

Un alma derrotada, torturada por sí misma,que habría podido hacer mucho de haber nacido en una época ó ambiente apropiado.

Kimseden daha iyi olmad???n?z? anlayacak kadar mutevaz?, herkesten farkl? oldu?unuzu kavrayacak kadar bilge olun.

Dilin geçirdi?i bu serüveni, yani susmay?, bir ?ey önermemeyi, uzakl???, kendi d???na ç?kmay?, cinneti, daha nice ?eyi bütün ba?yap?tlarda bulabiliriz." ?lhan Berk, 'Poetika', sayfa 12

it was as if she'd shut out the outside world. No, actually, thought Anna-Maria, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She isn't shutting out the outside world. She's shutting herself in.

Je vais te parler" n'est pas une phrase facile à entendre. On parle, ou on ne parle pas, c'est comme ça. Si on pense à parler, si on avertit qu'on va parler, c'est qu'existe trop fort ce qu'on ne dira pas.

La maladie et le deuil sont les meilleurs baromètres pour savoir ce que les gens pensent vraiment.

Later, with time, we no longer need a shawl over our eyes or grass in our ears. The one playing the blind man simply turns his gaze inward, and the deaf one shuts his ears to all sounds

It's really a sad story, and I liked that. The songs on this album talk about relationships in every aspect.

Sometimes loneliness makes the loudest noise.

Well, she certainly had a point there. It wasn't easy remembering you were an august personage.

Observe the world around you - everything you do, and especially everything you hate to do.

Was he actually losing it now, that he talked to himself all the time? Was all of this in his head? But he needed to talk to someone, and without anyone else around, talking to himself would have to do. At