#introspection

…there is not a day of my life that I am not critiquing myself to see if my politics are borne out in the way that I live and the way that I talk and present myself. ↗

— Bell Hooks

#politics #life

Novels are food for the leftover hours of life, the in-between times, the moments of waiting. ↗

— Kim Young-ha

#inspirational #introspection #kim #korea #korean

He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#introspection

I am a writer of books in retrospect. I talk in order to understand; I teach in order to learn ↗

— Robert Frost

#on-writing #reflection #introspection

Think of your head as an unsafe neighborhood; don't go there alone. ↗

— Augusten Burroughs

#therapy #introspection

I do feel that I’ve managed to make something I could maybe call my world…over time…little by little. And when I’m inside it, to some extent, I feel kind of relieved. But the very fact I felt I had to make such a world probably means that I’m a weak person, that I bruise easily, don’t you think? And in the eyes of society at large, that world of mine is a puny little thing. It’s like a cardboard house: a puff of wind might carry it off somewhere. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#philosophy #society #weakness #introspection

My friend...care for your psyche...know thyself, for once we know ourselves, we may learn how to care for ourselves" -Socrates ↗

— Socrates

#introspection #ourselves #psyche #self-awareness #introspection

Thought is the sculptor who can create the person you want to be. ↗

— Henry David Thoreau

#introspection

What is reading but silent conversation. ↗

— Walter Savage Landor

#introspection #reading #introspection

The magician seemed to promise that something torn to bits might be mended without a seam, that what had vanished might reappear, that a scattered handful of doves or dust might be reunited by a word, that a paper rose consumed by fire could be made to bloom from a pile of ash. But everyone knew that it was only an illusion. The true magic of this broken world lay in the ability of things it contained to vanish, to become so thoroughly lost, that they might never have existed in the first place. ↗

— Michael Chabon

#magic #introspection