Quotes About Introspection

Mr J. L. B. Matekoni thought that she was right. He was not a man with a very sophisticated theology, and there were times when he had his serious doubts. But when all was said and done he thought that there was something beyond us, something other than the human, and that if you closed your eyes and thought about this thing long enough you could hear its voice within you. That was enough for him.

Most of us go through life so absorbed in the cocoon of ourselves that we rarely stop to consider the other. Of course we think that we do; indeed we may pride ourselves on our capacity for empathy; we may be considerate and thoughtful in our dealings with others, but how often do we stand before them, so to speak, and experience what it is to be them?

And when I say "the least of us", or even "the weaker brethren", I do not mean other people, you know: I mean myself.

Now, as he finished the last of his porridge, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni reminded himself that the one thing he felt certain about when it came to women was that you could never be sure.

if you had no language, then what form did your thoughts take—if you thought at all? Of course you thought—she had never had any difficulty with accepting that—but how limited would your thoughts be in the absence of any words to express them?

Self-doubt was a luxury, as, perhaps, was the examined life. And yet the examined life, as the adage had it, was the only life worth living.

The problem was, of course, that people did not seem to understand the difference between right and wrong. They needed to be reminded of this, because if you left it to them to work out for themselves they would never bother. They would just find out what was best for them and they would call that the right thing.

And that, in a way, was the burden of being a philosopher: one knew what one had to do, but it was so often the opposite of what one really wanted to do.

Had he sailed too close to the wind? No, in his case another meteorological metaphor was appropriate perhaps: he had reaped whirlwinds—or at least what he had sown. She looked at her watch.

Don't be excessively judgmental, if you like, but always–always–be prepared to make a judgment. Otherwise you'll go through life not really knowing what you mean.

We were all different, she thought, and it was important to remind oneself of that. It was important, too, to imagine what it must be like to be another person. That was a simple thing to do, and its effect could be salutary.

If you have enemies, then your biggest enemy is yourself. Do you know that, Mma?

all of us had a view from somewhere, a view of the world from the perspective of who we were, of what had happened to us, of how we thought about things.

That was the problem with being a philosopher: it was not easy. As a philosopher one could not believe in just one thing; one had to explore the possibility that what one thought was true might be false; that what one wanted to believe might not be what one really should hold to be true. So much for the examined life: how uncomfortable it could be. But at least she knew what she wanted for lunch.

That was the problem with human failings – they were often more visible to others than to those whom they afflicted.

Moral philosophy] also has to bear in mind who we are, our human limitations. It's not just something that one does in armchairs. As she spoke, she thought of her own armchair. The last time she had sat in it, she had drifted off to sleep while watching the news. For a moral philosopher's armchair, she thought, it's somewhat under-used.

Sometimes I go blind. Then I take my right hand out to dinner.

Moral commonplaces are amazingly useful when we can find little in ourselves with which to justify our actions.

Days when I came to flower serenely in Lycée gardens long ago, and read my Apuleius keenly, but spared no glance for Cicero.

He who has lived and thought can never Help in his soul despising men, He who has felt will be forever Haunted by days he can't regain. For him there are no more enchantments, Him does the serpent of remembrance, Him does repentance always gnaw. All this will frequently afford A great delight to conversations.

He who has lived and thought can't help despising people in his soul; him who has felt disturbs the ghost of irrecoverable days; for him there are no more enchantments; him does the snake of memories, him does repentance bite.

es insoportable ver solo ante si la larga hilera de comidas, mirar la vida como una ceremonia y seguir a la solemne multitud, sin compartir con ella las opiniones generales ni las pasiones.

Já esquecera os amigos, a cidade E o tédio das festas de vaidade.

El alma del que ha vivido y ha pensado no puede por menos que despreciar a la gente. A aquel que es sensible le atormenta la visión de los días irrevocables; ya no conoce el placer; la víbora del recuerdo y el arrepentimiento le consume.