Best 1516 quotes in «reflection quotes» category

No, she felt homesick, not for a place, but for a time. Maybe it wasn't homesickness at all. Maybe it was timesickness. She just missed those days when she was younger - seven, six, five, four years old - when she didn't know so much about the world. She missed, most of all, her mother.

No se puede obligar a la gente a que escuche. A su debido tiempo, deberá acudir, preguntándose qué ha ocurrido y por qué el mundo ha estallado bajo ellos

No teacher teaches a student without having taught himself how to learn.

No - the light in Tamani's eyes was much more than a reflection. It was the fire that melted her anger and devestated her resolve, every single time she saw it.

Nothing can be more perfect in my world than the imperfection it must match.

Nothing has more meaning in life than to come out of it better than you started it in the first place.

Nothing has the power to hold you in the state of pain except your own self.

Not one of you reflects, that you ought know your Gods before you worship them.

Now I have to lie on the bed for a few minutes and let the solitude gather round me once more.

Now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turnin' gold And like the sky my soul is also turnin' Turnin' from the past, at last and all I've left behind

Oh, listen. Listen!' A sound like a big crowd a good way off, excited and shouting, getting closer. We stand up and scan the empty sky. Suddenly there they are (the geese), a wavering V headed directly over the hilltop, quite low, beating southward down the central flyway and talking as they pass. We stay quiet suspending our human conversation until their garulity fades and their wavering lines are invisible in the sky. They have passed over us like an eraser over a blackboard, wiping away whatever was there before they came.

omnis mundi creatura / quasi liber et pictura / nobis est in speculum (all the creatures of the world / as a book and a picture / are to us a mirror)

Once upon a time there was a king, and the king commissioned his favorite wizard to create a magic mirror. This mirror didn’t show you your reflection. It showed you your soul—it showed you who you really were. The wizard couldn’t look at it without turning away. The king couldn’t look at it. The courtiers couldn’t look at it. A chestful of treasure was offered to anyone who could look at it for sixty seconds without turning away. And no one could.

Once, in grade school, our class was taken on an overnight excursion to a campground. The air was warm: we had a campfire and ate hot dogs; and as darkness fell, we were herded down to the lake. There were perhaps thirty children, so I suppose there were at least four or five adults. We trooped through the woods with flashlights. There must have been yelling and singing, the grown-ups chattering. A noisy expedition. At the shore of the lake we were presented, as if on a stage, with a doubled moon -- one floating in the clear dark sky, one in the clear dark calm of the water. Were there exclamations, shouts of amazement, loud giggle praise for this sight? There might have been, but for me there was only silence. An unprecedented silence, tranquil and immense. Silence, and the moon on the lake -- a sight so pure I nearly staggered under its impact. I knew, without the words to say it, that the lack in my life of what this moon and lake represented was the other side of the coin of happiness. Not unhappiness, but shame, which was possibly the same thing, and which then rose up in me in nauseating waves.

One Crack On A Mirror Can Ruin The Beauty of It But Most Importantly, It Ruins The Reflection of The Individual, By Making It Twisted, Zigzag And Ugly. Character Is Like A Mirror. So Build Your Character In Such A Way That It Reflects All The Good In Others Who Follows You Or Treat You As An Idol....

Once we’ve had time for reflection, instinct leads to insight. Insight tells us more than that which is visible on the surface. It is complex.

On the still calm waters of surrender, the reflections of clarity appear.

Only a fool can be happy. For happiness consists of two contradictory elements: contentment and pleasure. Enjoy pleasure and you have no contentment; be content and you have no pleasure. For this reason happiness is conceivable only for those who enjoy themselves without thinking that they will always want more and thus be discontented, or for those who are content without thinking that they have no pleasure. Whoever reflects can never be happy, unless he is a fanatic and thus blinded…thus exercising control over his intelligence with his feelings, instead of the other way round

Our body is a sacred temple A place to connect with people. As we aren't staying any younger We might as well keep it stronger.

Opportunities happen when timing, connects, and personalities converge.

Our lives are lived in season of more, seasons of less, seasons of triumph, seasons of loss. Each season sees our needs change. We live, learn, and adapt. So, too, must our definition of meaning. Things that grow in one season rot in another. If we blindly hold on to the past, we'll be forced to sustain ourselves with the expiring beliefs from seasons gone by. No wonder we're often left feeling unsatisfied, empty, starving for substance.

Our power lies in our small daily choices, one after another, to create eternal ripples of a life well lived.

People like us, we think differently, don't we? We are different. We do all the things that others do. But when it comes down to it, we don't need anyone else. We're happy doing what we do and having obligation interferes with that. And sometimes I think we don't even need ourselves. What's most important is to find out whether we're right or not.

Our truest reflection reveals that we are what we think, we are what we say and we are what we continuously do.

Pauvres créatures! Si c'est un tort de les aimer, c'est bien le moins qu'on les plaigne. Vous plaignez l'aveugle qui n'a jamais vu les rayons du jour, le sourd qui n'a jamais entendu les accords de la nature, le muet qui n'a jamais pu rendre la voix de son âme, et, sous un faux prétexte de pudeur, vous ne voulez pas plaindre cette cécité du coeur, cette surdité de âme, ce mutisme de la conscience qui rendent folle la malheureuse affligée et qui la font malgré elle incapable de voir le bien, d'entendre le Seigneur et de parler la langue pure de l'amour et de la foi.

Pegi just recorded "I Don't Want to Talk About," written by Danny Whitten, the original Crazy Horse guitar player and singer who's all over Early Daze, an album of songs from the beginning of Crazy Horse that I have been working on compiling recently. Danny was every bit the artist I am, but he died of a heroin OD in the early seventies. Every time I hear Pegi sing that song, it makes me tremendously sad. She sings it so beautifully, phrasing it to break my heart. She does it justice. You can see I have some unfinished business with Danny.

people around you are reflections of your own identity.

People who are hard on others are usually very hard on themselves, and the pain they inflict on others is a reflection of the pain they inflict on themselves.

Our value is mirrored back to us through success only when we share the treasure we already are.

Past experiences are not always an ideal or good reflection of the present or the future.

People change, though, especially after they are dead.

People feeling the need to live inside of Faraday cages is a sad reflection on modern society that humans are devolving into living inside of safe spaces.

Perhaps I might have resisted a great temptation, but the little ones would have pulled me down

Philosophy is the reflection of reflective mind.

Pets reflect you like mirrors. When you are happy, you can see your dog smiling and when you are sad, your cat cries.

piensa que el hecho de que no existan luchas, odio ni deseos significa que tampoco existen las cosas opuestas. Es decir, la alegría, la paz de espíritu, el amor. Porque es de la desesperanza, del desengaño y de la tristeza de donde nace la alegría y, sin ellas, ésta no podría existir. Es imposible encontrar una paz de espíritu sin desesperación

Prepare in the morning; reflect at night.

POLISH your MIND to reflect the shimmering BEAUTY of your WORDS and ACTIONS.

Polish the mirror of your heart until it reflects every person's light.

¿Por qué el ser humano es tan cruel,joder? ¿Por qué?

Prayer does not blind us to the world, but it transforms our vision of the world, and makes us see it, all men, and all the history of mankind, in the light of God. To pray 'in spirit and in truth' enables us to enter into contact with that infinite love, that inscrutable freedom which is at work behind the complexities and the intricacies of human existence. This does not mean fabricating for ourselves pious rationalizations to explain everything that happens. It involves no surreptitious manipulation of the hard truths of life.

Quien conozca a su adversario como a sí mismo no deberá temer nada.

Raciocinai assim com a vida: Se te perco, perco uma coisa que somente os loucos querem conservar. Não passas de um sopro, exposto a todas as influências do ar e que, hora após hora, deterioram esta habitação em que moras. És meramente o joquete da morte, pois procuras sempre evitá-la pela fuga e, apesar disto, corres sempre em direção a ela. Não és nobre, porque todas as voluptuosidades, que são teu patrimônio, são acalentadas pelas baixezas. Estás longe de ser valente, pois temes o aguilhão terno e brando de um verme. O que tens de melhor em ti é o sono e que tantas vezes provocas; entretanto, temes grosseiramente a morte que não passa de um sono. Tu não és tu mesmo, pois tua existência é o resultado de milhares de grãos que saem do pó. Não és feliz, porque o que tu não tens, tu te esforças para adquirir e o que possuis, tu esqueces. Não és constante, pois tua natureza, segundo as fases da Lua, sofre estranhas alterações. Se és rico, és pobre; pois, semelhante a um asno cujo lombo está vergado ao peso de lingotes, só carregas as tuas riquezas um único dia e a morte te livra delas. Não tens amigos, pois o fruto de tuas próprias entranhas que te chama de ''pai'', o mais puro de teu sangue saído de teus próprios rins, maldiz a gota, a lepra e o catarro, que não te acabam bem depressa. Não tens juventude nem velhice, e, por assim dizer, não passas de um sesta depois do jantar que sonha um pouco com as duas idades; pois toda tua feliz juventude é passada fazendo-se velha e solicitando esmolas da paralítica velhice. Quando, no fim, fores velho e rico, já não terás calor, sentimento, força, nem beleza, para tornares agradáveis tuas riquezas. Que te sobra ainda nisto que traz o nome de Vida? Outras mil formas de morte ainda estão ocultas nesta vida e, contudo tememos a morte que nivela todas estas misérias.

Rather than walk about holy places we can thus pause in our thoughts, examine our heart, and visit the wheel promised land.

Reading all my old love letters was disorienting. You remember thinking the thoughts and writing the words but, man, you can't TOUCH those feelings. Its like they belonged to someone else. Someone you don't even know. I'm aware, in an intellectual way. That I felt all those things about him, but this emotions are far away now. What's so strange to me is that I can't even force my heart back to that place where I felt that all consuming passion. That makes me feel distant from myself. Who WAS I then? Will I ever be able to get back to that place? Reading the letters again made me wonder: Which is the real me? The one who saw the world in that emotionally saturated way, or the me who sees it the way I do now?

Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider.

...real childhood scars heal, but not when band-aids replace self-reflection.

Real change will come when you focus on yourself - not on changing him, Real change comes when you are willing and able to state your claim on what you are and are not willing to live with. Just remember to let him in on it

Real life, life finally uncovered and clarified, the only life in consequence lived to the full, is literature. Life in this sense dwells within all ordinary people as much as the artist. But they do not see it because they are not trying to shed light on it.

Reflection is a blessing and reflection happens not only when one sees himself on a mirror or on the windowpane or on a puddle, but it also happens when someone criticises you! In every true critique made on you, you will see yourself and you will obtain a good chance to make corrections on yourself! Reflection happens even in the books you read! Reflection is a blessing; when it happens, you discover yourself, you face yourself!