Quotes About Introspection

There's nothing in that water except what we bring in with us.

We don't know the terrible things that are coming our way," she said as she looked down at the cut crystal, her eyes teary. "We just see the shiny surface, our own beautiful selves reflected in it. Not the monster lurking beneath.

Ruthie had found the idea that we were only a series of neatly constructed puzzle pieces or building blocks vaguely unsettling—even at eight, she wanted there to be more to it than that.

Reggie had always been a quiet kid, even with her own family, and part of the reason for this was that she never knew the right thing to say. Words didn't come easily to her, they were stumbling blocks rather than lines of connection. And only later, after the fact, when she was replaying conversations in her head late at night, did the right words come—a cruel joke, too little, too late.

Socrates counts among those great minds who actually cultivated doubt in the name of truth.

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer. —Rainer Maria Rilke

Petrarch also writes that suicides are caused by anger, disdain, impatience, and "a kind of furious forgetfulness of what thou art.

All I know is what I wonder: Which of my feelings are real? Which of the mes is me? There is only one me I've ever really liked, and he was good and awake as long as he could be.

I have this feeling, like I'm waiting for something. But I have no idea what.

Is today a good day to die?

Everyone in my life is a stranger, and that includes me.

Sometimes all I did all day was just wander around in my mind.

But all the scary stuff doesn't really compare to getting lost in your own mind.

It's only when I'm awake that I think about dying.

I am not perfect. I have secrets. I am messy. Not just my bedroom but me. No one likes messy.

He writes Before I die I want to and draws a line. He writes it again. Then he writes it a dozen more times. "After we fill these up, we can keep going on the front of the building and down the other side. It's a good way to figure out just why we're here.

FINCH : Day 75 "The cadence of suffering has begun."-Cesare Pavese I am in pieces.

I can be both of us at once so no one will have to miss her, most of all me. I I

When you're looking back, you can't look forward. And sometimes you run smack into something and hit your head.

On my bed, I sit down and flip through the cut-up books one by one, reading all the cut-up passages.

I'm not a vain person, but I am human...

Guys like Ryan Cross have a way of reminding you who you are, even when you don't want to remember.

I like to think that the colors and sounds and words have nothing to do with him, that they're all me and my own brilliant, complicated, buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, godlike brain" -Finch

And for a long time I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, and I actually disappear before my eyes. I am disappearing. Maybe I'm already gone.