Best 1516 quotes in «reflection quotes» category

Freedom comes from self-knowledge, when we become aware of who we are and what we are here for.

From all that I saw, and everywhere I wandered, I learned that time cannot be spent, It only can be squandered.

Gansey clucked at his bedraggled reflection in the dark-framed mirror hanging in the front hallway. Chainsaw eyed herself briefly before hiding on the other side of Ronan's neck; Adam did the same, but without the hiding-in-Ronan's-neck bit. Even Blue looked less fanciful that usual, the lighting rendering her lampshade dress and spiky hair as a melancholy Pierrot.

Gillman smiles, in the cold manner of an assassin. It's like looking in the mirror.

Give me back my lips. I meant to give you a kiss but a kiss turned to a thousand, and a thousand to thousands, and now my lips have left with you. Give me back my hands. They only intended to caress you but they held tight and have forgotten even the very arms they belong to. Give me back my mind. Mind wasn’t even supposed to think of you but you forced yourself into dreams, and those dreams dreamed of your reality and now mind is mindless — less mine more yours. Give me back to myself. I miss my reflection and who I was before I met you. Before I eagerly and lovingly, stupidly and foolishly gave all of myself to you.

God is like a mirror, consistent, stable, unchanging; reflecting His image of us, that is always changing.

God isn't here. God doesn't even know about this place

God’s Word transforms you into someone who reflects His glory.

Go look in the mirror and have a talk with your real boss

Good luck' is like the shadow of a tree, for some time it gives comfort to a traveler but it doesn't go ahead with a traveler.

-Grayson, você tem ideia do que acabou de me dizer, certo? -Explique. -Você praticamente acabou de admitir que a ama, olhe tudo o que aconteceu, tudo o que você fez e suportou por ela. Sempre por ela - falou. - Eu já sabia que você sentia algo por Sarah, pois isso está esculpido em sua face, mas eu não imaginava que fosse tudo tão... Intenso!

He captures memories because if he forgets them, it's as though they didn't happen.

Great ideas emerges from useless fragments of thoughts.

Growth and empowerment requires reflection and facing the frightening, ugly, hard and unbearable reality.

Happiness gives you the freedom to enhance your ability to achieve success. Your choices in life are a direct reflection of your level of happiness. It's the sunshine for your soul that you need in order to grow

Has this version of me been lurking there all along, somewhere deep below the surface, biding its time, waiting for its chance to make an appearance?

Having no resources within himself, he was compelled to be the copyist of many, and being such, he was forever the victim of inconsistency;

He felt the withering of something, the way risk was increasingly eliminated, replaced with a bland new world where the viewing of food preparation would be felt to be more than the reading of poetry; where excitement would come from paying for a soup made out of foraged grass. He had eaten soup made out of foraged grass in the camps; he preferred food.

He finds he cannot think of the dying men at all. Into his mind instead strays the picture of More on the scaffold, seen through the veil of rain: his body, already dead, folding back neatly from the impact of the axe. The cardinal when he fell had no persecutor more relentless than Thomas More. Yet, he thinks, I did not hate him. I exercised my skills to the utmost to persuade him to reconcile with the king. And I thought I would win him, I really thought I would, for he was tenacious of the world, tenacious of his person, and had a good deal to live for. In the end he was his own murderer. He wrote and wrote and he talked and talked, then suddenly at a stroke he cancelled himself. If ever a man came close to beheading himself, Thomas More was that man.

Guilt was written all over his face. He could see it in his reflection.

Havia me apaixonado pela ilusão de algo desconhecido

He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror, but instead of the handsome, successful, owner of a billion-dollar corporation, he saw the remnants of the unpopular, socially-awkward, Magic The Gathering-obsessed nerd he left behind all those years ago. That gorgeous and psychotic minx on the fifteenth floor cracked his mirror, and he saw his true reflection.

Hello! Look at me! I am your reflection.

He looked at the road quite a lot now. Sometimes the white line was solid, sometimes it was broken, and sometimes it was double, like streetcar tracks. He wondered how people could ride over this road all the other days of the year and not see the pattern of life and death in that white paint? Or did they see, after all?

Here, brush this old hair aside; it blinds me, that I seem to weep. Locks so grey did never grow but from out some ashes! But do I look very old, so very, very old, Starbuck? I feel deadly faint, bowed, and humped, as though I were Adam, staggering beneath the piled centuries since Paradise.

Her sword weighed heavily in her hand. She stared at the polished blade, wondering if its reflection would be the last sight she ever caught of herself. Would she die as Ping, the Fa son she'd made up so she could join the army in her father's place? If she died here, in the middle of this snow-covered mountain pass, she'd never see her father or her family again. Mulan swallowed hard. Who would believe that only a few months ago, her biggest concern had been impressing the Matchmaker? She could barely remember the girl she'd been back then. She'd worn layer upon layer of silk, not plates of armor, her waist cinched tightly with a satin sash instead of sore from carrying a belt of weapons. Her lips had been painted with rouge instead of chapped from cold and lack of water, her lashes highlighted with coal that she now could only dream of using to fuel a fire for warmth. How far she'd come from that girl to who she was now: a soldier in the Imperial army. Maybe serving her country as a warrior was truer to her heart than being a bride. Yet when she saw her reflection in her sword, she knew she was still pretending to be someone else.

Her beauty is laced in her strength and interwoven through her flaws. She embodies perfection.

her reflection captivates me her darkness teaches me her essence fills me her light calms me her soul caresses me... she is my fascination she is is my art she is my glow she is my love she is my dance

He said that the music—its order and precision—helped him find the patterns in things—the way through the confusion of events and opinions to direction, to order, and beyond, to inspiration.

He wasn't a whole person any longer, but only half of something not yet made.

Hide in the morrow. No one will look for you there.

His words started to wedge their way into me, and they would stay for a long time; twisting me up, and causing me to look at life in a whole new way.

Hope is when we have a beautiful vision of something and a positive emotion to go along with it. When our world comes crashing down, when we are trapped in a deep, dark, despairing hopelessness, we need a bigger perspective. Hope comes when we reflect on all that we hold dear and true, when we acknowledge a higher power, when we acknowledge God in our lives and begin to see what He has planned for our lives.

I do not want to meet my evil self,' said Pearl. Draconus glanced across at him. 'Who does?

I don't know if you have children of your own, Mariamjo, but if you do I pray that God look after them and spare you the grief that I have known. I still dream of them. I still dream of my dead children. I have dreams of you too, Mariam jo. I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, your laughter. I miss reading to you, and all those times we fished together. Do you remember all those times we fished together? You were a good daughter, Mariam jo, and I cannot ever think of you without feeling shame and regret. Regret… When it comes to you, Mariamjo, I have oceans of it. I regret that I did not see you the day you came to Herat. I regret that I did not open the door and take you in. I regret that I did not make you a daughter to me, that l let you live in that place for all those years. And for what? Fear of losing face? Of staining my so called good name? How little those things matter to me now after all the loss, all the terrible things I have seen in this cursed war. But now, of course, it is too late. Perhaps this is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone. Now all I can do is say that you were a good daughter, Mariamjo, and that I never deserved you. Now all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. So forgive me, Mariamjo. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.

...if a man’s thirst is quenched by power, then all other desires are of no worth to him.

If boys would think, it would be well to give them less classwork and more opportunity for thought.

If I could only teach you one thing about the world, it would be to Appreciate and be as present as possible in every moment. Take everything in and try and learn from it. No matter how tangled things get, there is always a lesson to be learned in the untangling of those things.

If not in the moment, where do you propose to live?

I found no oceans in your eyes, no windy storms or starry skies. Neither a pearl nor an ember I could see, just the perfect reflection of me.

If perception is limited to experience and knowledge, what proof do we have of moral judgement?

If people challenge the vagaries of life, in a world where conflicting powers are outlining our fate, it may be ill-advised to actuate wrecking high-wire acts without a safety net. If they need a new swing in their reality, they cannot count on sheer luck. Whatever their exploit may be, reflection and action must be ingrained allies, on all accounts.("Ruling the waves" )

If the reflection is beautiful, we can be sure that the reflected is beautiful! If someone’s character is beautiful, we can be sure that his mind is beautiful!

If there’s a real urge to control someone, control one person—yourself.

If you would seek to find yourself look not in the mirror for there is but a shadow there' A stranger.... SILENIUS, ODES TO TRUTH

He had done nothing on Christmas day, just wandered around outside in the frozen woods. Hard ground, chill winds and bare branches that looked like they'd been dipped in sugar. None of it seemed real, like walking around in a desolate dream, but one he didn't want to wake up from.

He who does not see the light in others does not see the light in himself.

His sensitive nature was still smarting under the lashes of an undivided and squalid way of life. His soul was still disquieted and cast down by the dull phenomenon of Dublin. He had emerged from a two years' spell of revery to find himself in the midst of a new scene, every event and figure of which affected him intimately, disheartened him or allured and, whether alluring or disheartening, filled him always with unrest and bitter thoughts. All the leisure which his school life left him was passed in the company of subversive writers whose jibes and violence of speech set up a ferment in his brain before they passed out of it into his crude writings.

Homo sapiens have explored many ages: the Stone Age, the Bronze Age, the Iron Age and, as of late, the Industrial Age, of which we have only tried for a couple hundred years. Before we seemingly dive headfirst into a Digital, Automated or Artificial Age, we are in desperate need of an Age of Reflection.

How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?