Quotes About Introspection

They DO live more in earnest, more in themselves, and less in surface, change, and frivolous external things. I could fancy a love for life here almost possible; and I was a fixed unbeliever in any love of a year's standing.

If you're going to lick the icing off somebody else's cake you won't be nourished and it won't do you any good, or you might find the cake had caraway seeds and you hate them.

I think that one's art is a growth inside one. I do not think one can explain growth. It is silent and subtle. One does not keep digging up a plant to see how it grows.

We examine our sense of reality, of memory, and we must conclude that it is flawed.

To shut your eyes is to travel.

I must go in. The fog is rising.

One need not be a chamber to be haunted.

How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?

Judge tenderly of me.

open me carefully

I fear a Man of frugal speech - I fear a Silent Man - Haranguer - I can overtake - Or Babbler - entertain - But He who weigheth - While the Rest - Expend their furthest pound - Of this Man - I am wary - I fear that He is Grand -

I'm a Nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? There's a pair of us- don't tell!

But it is growing damp and I must go in. Memory's fog is rising.

Forgive me if I never visit. I am from the fields, you know, and while quite at home with the dandelions, make a sorry figure in a drawing room.

There is a pain so utter, it swallows being up; The covers the abyss with a trance So memory can step around, across, upon it.

Have you got a brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink, And shadows tremble so?

The soul unto itself Is an imperial friend, — Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send. Secure against its own, No treason it can fear; Itself its sovereign, of itself The soul should stand in awe.

The career of flowers differs from ours only in inaudibleness. I feel more reverence as I grow for these mute creatures whose suspense or transport may surpass my own.

How dreary — to be — Somebody! How public — like a Frog — To tell one's name — the livelong June — To an admiring Bog!

Beauty crowds me till I die. Emily Dickinson

I read my sentence - steadily . . .

Did you ever read one of her Poems backward, because the plunge from the front overturned you? I sometimes (often have, many times) have - A something overtakes the Mind.

Safe Despair it is that raves— Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.

The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door