Quotes About Musing

It's how I fill the time when nothing's happening. Thinking too much, flirting with melancholy.

There's a difference between remembering and thinking

Thoughts carry a great deal of freight.

True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.

Raising awareness. It's a good thing. Makes people think twice.

She stuck her tongue in her cheek, thinking.

How could I be thinking such absurdities?

O I'm babbling.

She thought thought that without noticing that she'd thought it, and she soon forgot it, and only remembered it much later.

And half of the fun of nearly everything, you know, is thinking about it beforehand, or afterward.

I wonder if I should have Darjeeling tea?" West mused aloud. "No, perhaps something stronger... Ceylon or pekoe... and some of the little buns with the cream and jam... What were those, Kathleen?" "Cornish splits." "Ah. No wonder I like them. It sounds like something I once saw performed at a dance hall.

How busy are you today? Oh, he [Thomas] mused. I don't know. I mean, I've got to get a new shirt now. After that, I asked, would you like to help me save the city? If you don't already have plans. He snorted. You mean, would I like to follow you around, wondering what the hell is going on because you won't tell me everything, then get in a fight with something that is going to leave me in intensive care? Uh-huh, I said, nodding, pretty much. Yeah, he said. Okay.

furrowed. "Let

Malina: calm the commotion. Disturb the calm. Me: (doltente, Molto Mosso) But when will the time finally come to accomplish this, when can I do and do nothing more, all at once? When will the time come when I can find time for that? When will it be time to stop all false differentiation and categorization, to stop false fear and suffering, senseless empathy, this constant, senseless pondering and musing! (Una corda) I want to think my way out slowly. (Tutte le corde) Is that the way it is?

None of this means anything. Anything of significance, that is. I am just amusing myself, musing, losing myself in a welter of words. For words in here are a form of luxury, of sensuousness, they are all we have been allowed to keep of the rich, wasteful world from which we are shut away.

of them gave those thoughts a second consideration

A penny for your thought.

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.

Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs

I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death.

Thinking's worse than February.

Talking with a friend is nothing else but thinking aloud.

I can't stop thinking like this.

I sometimes seem to myself to wander around the world merely accumulating material for future nostalgias.