Best 1516 quotes in «reflection quotes» category

Don't waste today by talking about yesterday until it's finally tomorrow.

Do we reflect on life? Someday this life will be gone.

Do you remember how the sun, set On the occasion, we last conversed? First, it hid behind some lousy clouds As I was uttering my dying words Then, out it came with a shiny glare As I grasped the truth of your beauty ‘Twas nothing but my own reflection To my surprise and curiosity. Now the sun’s told our tale to this town And I heard how it had made you smile So if the thought of me drew a smile Then, I have mastered true lover’s guile

Dreams aren't an escape from reality, they're a reflection of what we want reality to be. - The Malwatch

drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it as the axis on which the world revolves

Each Bullet Journal becomes another volume in the story of your life. Does it represent the life you want to live? If not, then leverage the lessons you've learned to change the narrative in the next volume.

Echo of the waves appears in the sky, their lights reflected in your eyes. I'm back in our world and happy again. The sound of your voice, compassionate embrace... The power in your touch, serenity of stride... The beating of your heart calms down my presence, gracing with eternal peace of mind... Bathing in the sunshine of your arms I'm deeply aware of the melodic stream that has no language...gliding beneath the quiet Heaven of your eyes...

Edith (the future Mrs. Teddy Roosevelt) developed a lifelong devotion to drama and poetry. "I have gone back to Shakespeare, as I always do," she would write seven decades later.

E ele se servia do homem que era para sentir o seu universo, mesmo que fosse o universo de uma avalanche da noite. E, à questão fundamental, que ninguém soube fazer, mas que governava todas as tentativas: 'Quem era o senhor? Quem surgiu no senhor?", ele nada poderia ter respondido, senão: 'Eu mesmo...'. Nenhuma circunstância desperta em nós um estranho de que não suspeitássemos. Viver é nascer lentamente. Seria muito fácil tomar almas já prontas!

Encased in an elaborate illusion of unlimited power and progress, each of us subscribes, at least until one's midlife crisis, to the belief that existence consists of an eternal, upward spiral of achievement, dependent on will alone. This comforting illusion may be shattered by some urgent irreversible experience ... None more potently confronts us with finiteness and contingency than the imminence of our own death.

Encouraging employees to interact directly with the environment is just an interesting exercise until you debrief their experiences and encourage reflection.

Ensure that what was conceived as thought is reflected within reality.

Es como si viviera bajo el cielo gris de nubes cargadas de lluvia. Están ahí arriba, sobre mi cabeza, conteniéndose, esperando para liberar toda su furia... Y sé que tiene que ocurrir. Sólo tengo que ser paciente, sobrevivir en este espacio gris que es mi hogar y mi mundo. Algún día, en algún momento, la tormenta estallará. Y yo abriré los brazos y miraré al cielo, dejaré que el agua me empate... y seré libre por fin.

E se a minha vida não fôr mais do que um processo de materialização, através do qual eu dou forma a imagens latentes que vivem adormecidas em mim?

Every joy is like a piece of mirror: always reflecting..

Every child's first lesson in reflection, refraction, surface tension, colloidal solutions, fluid dynamics, and what not, begins with a pool of water on the road. //All in a child's play

Even through this awful time, people were still inventing things. I just wasn’t seeing it, just like people in third world countries never saw it.

Every so often she felt scared at the strength of her own love. It was like a dammed-up stream, and she knew that there was only a tiny difference between bathing and drowning someone in love. But she wasn't worried about that any longer. Because he looked like he'd be able to receive, and not just give

Everyone may know of your idea; even though, it will never be as it real as you thought.

Everything needs love… and everything you do or don’t do is a reflection of how you love you!

Everything is reflected in both - outside (out there) and inside (in here) - marvel at it, experience, learn. The personal is also the universal, and the universal is also the personal.

Find the words that cause reflection in you. That is where true learning begins.

Every time I stare into those eyes of yours, they shine like a mirror with the sharp edges, piercing trough every bit of my reflection. It makes me feel like a child lost in the woods. And all of a sudden I hear a song somewhere and a shiver runs down my spine. A song that I have heard somewhere before. A song that makes all my demons dance forcefully at once.

Experiential reality is a pure reflection of your own state of being. You see what you believe. It is that simple.

First impression is not the last reflection of a true friend, so if you are head over heels for someone who just bought you a cake, you'd better think twice before devouring your misery.

Every time you feel the urge to reflect, do pushups instead.

Find a part of yourself hidden in the twilight.

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

For a moment, frustration clouded his features. He inhaled deeply, and the clouds went away. “I miss people, you know? I miss actually living. I want to have a purpose in my life, but I don't. I'm just existing, and I don't know how long I can continue it.

Forgiveness is the greatest medicine ever created for the purification of the heart.

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.

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.

For the liquor of Miss Amelia has a special quality of its own. It is clean and sharp on the tongue, but once down a man it glows inside him for a long time afterward. And that is not all. It is known that if a message is written with lemon juice on a clean sheet of paper there will be no sign of it. But if the paper is held for a moment to the fire then the letters turn brown and the meaning becomes clear. Imagine that the whisky is the fire and that the message is that which is known only in the soul of a man – then the worth of Miss Amelia's liquor can be understood. Things that have gone unnoticed, thoughts that have been harbored far back in the dark mind, are suddenly recognized and comprehended. A spinner who has thought only of the loom, the dinner pail, the bed, and then the loom again – this spinner might drink some on a Sunday and come across a marsh lily. And in his palm he might hold this flower, examining the golden dainty cup, and in him suddenly might come a sweetness keen as pain. A weaver might look up suddenly and see for the first time the cold, weird radiance of midnight January sky, and a deep fright at his own smallness stop his heart. Such things as these, then, happen when a man has drunk Miss Amelia's liquor. He may suffer, or he may be spent with joy – but the experience has shown the truth; he has warmed his soul and seen the message hidden there.

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.

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

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

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

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

-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!

Great ideas emerges from useless fragments of thoughts.

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.

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

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

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

Havia me apaixonado pela ilusão de algo desconhecido

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 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.

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