Quotes About Introspection

It's absurd to see an enchanted princess in every girl who walks by. What do you think you are, a troubadour?

His words saddened them greatly, though they couldn't say why.

There are silences made just for us.

I no longer ask for all the loneliness of love or the tranquility of love or for the mirrors.

I began to tremble and he noticed. Why do I have to like the worst ones? I thought, why do I have to be attracted to the most brooding, least cultured, most desperate ones? It's a question I ask myself twice a year. I still haven't found an answer.

He] turned his back on the window, not knowing why he had gone to it, not knowing what he hoped to see, and just at that moment, when there was no one at the window any more and only a little lamp of colored glass at the back of the room flickering, it appeared.

dazzled by the shine of their own virtue, a shine that might not last (since virtue, once recognized in a flash, has no shine and makes its home in a dark cave amid cave dwellers, some dangerous indeed)…

He turned his face into the stream of water and closed his eyes. I'm not as sad as I'd have thought, he told himself. This is all unreal, he said to himself.

When he went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, he thought his features were changing. I look like a gentleman, he said to himself sometimes. I look younger. I look like someone else

The University of Santa Teresa was like a cemetery that suddenly begins to think, in vain. It also was like an empty dance club.

I don't know what I'm doing in Santa Teresa," Amalfitano said to himself after he'd been living in the city for a week. "Don't you? Don't you really?" he asked himself. "Really I don't," he said to himself. And that was as eloquent as he could be.

These weren't comforting nights, much less pleasant ones, but Espinoza discovered two things that helped him mightily in the early days: he would never be a fiction writer, and, in his own way, he was brave.

Who was the first human being to look out a window?

Everything's over, I thought. I felt rested, I'm home, I have lots to do. When I sat up in bed, though, all I did was start to cry like a fool, for no apparent reason.

I remember that a couple, both tall and thin, turned away from a painting and peered over as if I might be an ex-lover or a living (and unfinished) painting that had just got news of the painter's death. I know I walked out without looking back and that I walked for a long time until I realized I wasn't crying, but that it was raining and I was soaked. That night I didn't sleep at all.

I'm an educated man: the prisons I know are subtle ones. And of course poetry and prison have always been neighbors. And yet it's melancholia that's the source of my attraction.

my spirit had become so fragile, I was so devoid of the curiosity that, in former times, had been one of my most salient traits.

últimamente me noto una tendencia preocupante a aceptar las cosas tal como son.

Sometimes I get the sense that it's all "internal"... Maybe that's why I lived alone and did nothing for three years ... (The man hardly ever washed, he didn't need a typewriter, all he had to do was sit in that shabby armchair for things to flee of their own accord)

To Amalfitano, Jordi seemed a shy and formal boy. Rosa liked his silence, which she mistook for thoughtfulness when it was really just a symptom of the confusion raging in his head.

The sickness is to sit at the base of the lighthouse staring into nothing. The lighthouse is black, the sea is black, the writer's jacket is also black.

Uno tiene la obligación moral de ser responsable de sus actos y también de sus palabras e incluso de sus silencios, sí, de sus silencios, porque también los silencios ascienden al cielo y los oye Dios y sólo Dios los comprende y los juzga, así que mucho cuidado con los silencios

Tentou dizer alguma coisa num par de ocasiões, mas não conseguiu, o silêncio dela, porém, não era desagradável nem implicava rancor ou tristeza. Não era denso mas transparente. Quase não ocupava espaço. Inclusive, pensou Espinoza, você poderia se acostumar a esse silêncio e ser feliz. Mas ele não se acostumaria nunca, isso ele também sabia.

said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our