Quotes About Introspection

Yo creo que estamos aquí para cavilar. Para preguntar. Y que preguntándonos por las cosas grandes encontramos respuestas para las pequeñas, casi por casualidad. Pero sobre las grandes te quedas como al principio. Y cuanto más cavilo y me pregunto, más amor siento.

The thing I believe. God is inside you and inside everybody else. You come into the world with God. But only them that search for it inside find it. And sometimes it just manifest itself even if you not looking, or don't know what you looking for. Trouble do it for most folks, I think. Sorrow, lord. Feeling like shit.

The little I knew about my own self wouldn't have filled a thimble!... But one thing I do thank her for, for teaching me to learn for myself, by reading and studying and writing a clear hand. And for keeping alive in me somehow the desire to know.

she is learning a way of life she will never live.

My first step from the old white man was trees. Then air. Then birds. Then other people. But one day when I was sitting quiet and feeling like a motherless child, which I was, it come to me: that feeling of being part of everything, not separate at all.

We're asleep, said Suni. Just walking and talking, eating and shitting. Sound asleep. And we have to be that way, of course, said Anne. It's the human equivalent of fallowness. Spiritual hibernation, said Suni.

All my life I never care what people thought bout nothing I did,' I say. 'But deep down in my heart I care about God. What he going to think. And come to find out, he don't think. Just sit up there glorying in being deef, I reckon. But it ain't easy, trying to do without God. Even if you know he ain't there, trying to do without him is a strain.

Anyhow, he say, you know how it is. You ast yourself one question, it lead to fifteen. I start to wonder why us need love. Why us suffer. Why us black. Why us men and women. Where do children really come from. It didn't take long to realize I didn't hardly know nothing. And that if you ast yourself why you black or a man or a woman or a bush it don't mean nothing if you don't ast why you here, period.

I began to feel humiliated. It felt like I was abusing myself. Hiding something important that was not really at fault.

We all have to start somewhere if us want to do better, and our own self is what us have to hand.

breaking the heart opens it.

Y es que hace mucho tiempo que no pienso en los muchachos. Y en los hombres no he pensado nunca.

Carlotta had not dreamed her numbed heart could be broken still more, or that breaking the heart opens it.

She was beginning to think that human beings had underground selves, always running, limpid, clear, even when everything in the personality appeared used up, dusty and dry.

I write all the things I should have been able to read.

His eyes be sad and thoughtful. His face begin to look like a woman face.

The thing I believe. God is inside you and inside everybody else. You come into the world with God. But only them that search for it inside find it. And sometimes it just manifest itself even if you not looking, or don't know what you looking for.

I could get no further. There was a boulder lodged in my throat. My heart surged pitifully. I knew what the boulder was; that it was a word; and that behind that word I would find my earliest emotions. Emotions that had frightened me insane.

And so I laughed. The laughter bubbled up, irrepressible. I saw the path to happiness and to liberation at a glance. It was inside myself.

He had no such dreams, certainly. And if he had them, he did not recall them, on rising. Nor could he fathom why this should be so. In fact, dreams, the world of dreams, did not exist for him, as it existed for her. And unlike her, he did not sit before the dwindling fire of their hearth wondering, pondering, nagging the question really, What does this mean?

Mamma Nettie, he said, sitting on the bed next to me, how do you know when you really love someone? Sometimes you don't know, I said.

In one way, what I saw in those mirrors was the self trapped inside the self, forever. But in another way, the self in the mirror was opening out, in an infinite unfurling. I am the one whose drive is being thwarted. And I am the one who is thwarting it.

The more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew... And in this isolation, our creativity took on an aspect of compulsion.

You can't live and write at the same time.