Quotes About Introspection

I do not take any pleasure whatsoever in being a famous person.

And will knowing what she reads make you know who she is?" "Can you think of a better way to tell?

She believed that books served as a mirror of the person who accumulated them.

It is easier to read about life than to live it, Even so young I knew that. Even so young I needed a rest from the living.

To really be centered and to really work well and to think about the kinds of things that I need to think about, I need to spend large amounts of time alone.

Are you happy here?" I said at last. He considered this for a moment. "Not particularly," he said. "But you're not very happy where you are, either.

In short: I felt my existence was tainted, in some subtle but essential way.

There comes a time when you don't know what your capable of anymore. Looking back, you can remember what you were capable of then, how you thought, what you did, who you loved, who people said you were. Then something happens and takes all that away, the basket of good intentions you've been toting around, the trunk of dreams you've been pulling behind you, all of its gone in an instant, and its just you, naked, bare, exposed.

There comes a time when you don't know what your capable of anymore. Looking back, you can remember what you were capable of then, how you thought, whay you did, who you loved, who people said you were. Then something happens and takes all that away, the basked of good intentions you've been toting around, the trunk of dreams you've been pulling behind you, all of its gone in an instant, and its just you, naked, bare, exposed.

It's far too easy to tote around a pocketbook of virtues when people are around but the truth always claws its way out in silence. This business of quiet and aloneness is working me through and through.

Juk niekas negali žinoti, kas dedasi kito žmogaus širdyje? Išmintinga moterišk? moka, kai reikia, patyl?ti.

Who was to know what went on in a person's heart? A wise woman kept her own counsel.

D?l paiko smalsumo žmon?s kartais net praranda tik?jim?.

Tonight I feel like looking up, gazing deeply far away, trying to decipher my destiny in the vast universe open before me.

And thou who thinkest to seek for me, know thy seeking and yearning shall avail thee not, unless thou know this mystery: that if that which thou seekest thou findest not within thee, thou wilt never find it without thee

Veni, vidi, flevi. I came. I saw. I cried.

Maybe it's what we don't say/that saves us.

Who you are contributes to your poetry in a number of important ways, but you shouldn't identify with your poems so closely that when they are cut, you're the one that bleeds.

I've arrived at a time in my life when I could believe almost anything.

Possible, unthinkable, the cricket's tiny back as I lie on the lawn in the dark, my heart a blue cup fallen from someone's hands.

as if nothing had happened— as if everything mattered—What else could I do?

The reason that extended solitude seemed so hard to endure was not that we missed others but that we began to wonder if we ourselves were present, because for so long our existence depended upon assurances from them.

Lincoln had internalized the pain of those around him—the wounded soldiers, the captured prisoners, the defeated Southerners. Little wonder that he was overwhelmed at times by a profound sadness that even his own resilient temperament could not dispel.

It is terrible to destroy a person's picture of himself in the interests of truth or some other abstraction.