Best 1516 quotes in «reflection quotes» category

...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.

I steadied by guitar against the table, and steadied myself with it. And forgot every rule I had ever known.

I finally feel far enough away from it to gain perspective on everything that’s happened to me and everything I’ve done.

If metal can be polished to a mirrorlike finish, what polishing might the mirror of the heart require? Between the mirror and the heart is this single difference: the heart conceals secrets, while the mirror does not.

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 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 the Romans could have fortified their cities the way the human brain fortifies itself, we’d still be wearing togas. The mind is an amazing piece of biomachinery, really. A serious threat presents itself at the gate and up fly the walls, standing firm in the face of earth-shaking revelations, ideological bullets, and plain old logic.

If we reflect, we shall recognize.

If you are in the mountains alone for some time, many days at minimum, & it helps if you are fasting. The forest grows tired of its weariness towards you; it resumes its inner life and allows you to see it. Near dusk the faces in tree bark cease hiding, and stare out at you. The welcoming ones and also the malevolent, open in their curiosity. In your camp at night you are able to pick out a distinct word now and then from the muddled voices in creek water, sometimes an entire sentence of deep import. The ghosts of animals reveal themselves to you without prejudice to your humanity. You see them receding before you as you walk the trail their shapes beautiful and sad.

If you are trying to bring about a better future, you must eery day go someplace you have not been before, to the point of no return. What happens every time you go to the point of no return? You push past your limits and open up new terrains of possibility. Each challenge accepted leads to greater ability when you confront the next.

If you do not commit to it, nobody will.

If you have never found yourself, the best place to look is in your loneliness, and rock-bottom is even better.

If you meditate, you shall nourish your mind.

If you try to change a smarty, you’ll be battling in vain; they always have nonsense to say.

I guess, the more you love someone, the harder it is to say you're sorry.

I had an uneventful few days," it told her. "The most exciting thing was an hour-long lecture from the headmaster on taking our studies seriously. He said next year's exam will arrive sooner than we think." "No, they won't," Valkyrie said, frowning. "They'll arrive next year, exactly when we expect them." "That's what I told him," the reflection nodded. "I don't think he's comfortable with logic, because he didn't look happy. He sent me to the Career Guidance counsellor, who asked me what I wanted to do after college." Valkyrie stowed her black clothes. "What did you say?" "I told her I wanted to be a Career Guidance counsellor. She started crying, then accused me of mocking her. I told her if she wasn't happy in her job then she should look at other options, then pointed out that I was already doing her job better than she was. She gave me detention.

I have begun to wonder where I came from. The person I am now, this fumbling, stumbling supplicant... was I built on the foundations of my old life, or did I rise from the grave a blank state? How much of me is inherited, and how much is my own creation? Questions that were once just idle musings have begun to feel strangely urgent. Am I firmly rooted to what came before? Or can I choose to deviate?

I have built a city from the books I've read. A good book sings a a timeless music that is heard in the choir lofts, and balconies, and theaters that thrived within that secret city inside me.

I have learnt that we expect honesty and genuineness from others, while not being honest and genuine with our own self.

I have learned that creation is not just about inventing a lot of new stuff. The natural creation is to invent a lot of quality stuff.

I have noticed that the solar radiation reflections from rippled privacy windows cause greatly accelerated growth patterns in plants

I have watched many movies in my life. But nothing compares to what I live in my daily life.

I hope that you will be faced with difficult choices and decisions, trials that won’t undo you, but that will drive you toward reflection and understanding. Trust that your fears will sometimes tell you about your desires. You will see that you can survive the terror that comes with growth and change, with vulnerability and risk.

I leaned over the sink, closer to my reflection, and stare at myself hard. I don't know what I see. I don't even know what I want to see.

I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words 'Ich danke dir für all das Gute und Liebe und Schöne' (Thank you, God, for all that is good and dear and beautiful)

I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought or thoughtfulness.

I look around the room and can't help but think about how it is the little things we look back on in life. I wonder how often people think that they should pay more attention to them.

I'll read enough When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. Give me that glass and therein will I read. No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass, Like to my followers in prosperity Thou dost beguile me!

I'm a queen with or without a king. Chasing anything is beneath me. Until you're ready to put away childish things and be my man, my king, someone I can trust to shepard my soul to the Almighty I have to decline being your wife. I love you with all my heart and soul, but my salvation, life, health, and legacy has to come first now.

I miss those times when I hadn't a clue.

I'm Tiny And My Reach Is Limited. I Can Give YOU Only What I Have And Surely When I Give, I Don't Keep Anything For Me. To YOU, It's Nothing Probably As YOU've Got Everything. My Everything Would Be Unnoticed. It Seems Like "A Rain Drop To The Ocean".... (From The Romantic Story "Reflection of The Rainbow")....

In an age that valued prolonged and detailed exposition, complexity, and repetition it was astonishing that Luther should have instinctively discerned the value of brevity.

In a polished surface of metal I happen to notice my reflected face; it wears a pale, beaten lonely look, eyes looking out at nothing with an expression of fear, frightened and lonely in a nightmare world. Something, I don’t know what, makes me think of my childhood; I remember myself as a schoolchild sitting at a hard wooden desk, and then as a little girl with thick, fair, wind-tossed hair, feeding the swans in a park. And it seems both strange and sad to me that all those childish years were spent in preparation for this – that, forgotten by everybody, with a beaten face, I should serve machinery in a place far away from the sun.

In every story there is a silence, some sight concealed, some word unspoken, I believe. Till we have spoken the unspoken we have not come to the heart of the story.

Infatuated painted clouds, enamored of our silky bed-lagoon, reflect with silent tremors your sweetest of the kisses...whispers...then lightly consume its shining sunset skin with loving smiles greeting the lacy starry night ahead...making our senses dance so softly stepping on to the adorn petals of the place no one else knows...

In his life he too, like all people, had harboured ideas and dreams. Some he had fulfilled for himself; some had been granted to him. Many things had remained out of reach, or barely had he reached them than they were torn from his hands again. But he was still here. And in the mornings after the first snowmelt, when he walked across the dew-soaked meadow outside his hut and lay down on one of the flat rocks scattered there, the cool stone at his back and the first warm rays of sun on his face, he felt that many things had not gone so badly after all.

in misty beauty never before seen, sweet sounds of a forest so serene, embracing and peaceful, so fresh and clean as birds songs are whispering their routine. those reflections gleam in the aquamarine... morning light glowing on your leaves so pristine, so angelic, so ageless and always evergreen, dance with me, my lady, my love, my queen

In reading, friendship is restored immediately to its original purity. With books there is no forced sociability. If we pass the evening with those friends—books—it’s because we really want to. When we leave them, we do so with regret and, when we have left them, there are none of those thoughts that spoil friendship: “What did they think of us?”—“Did we make a mistake and say something tactless?”—“Did they like us?”—nor is there the anxiety of being forgotten because of displacement by someone else. All such agitating thoughts expire as we enter the pure and calm friendship of reading.

Insult is the reflection of pride or jealous

In the heart of appeasement there's the fear of rejection, and in acts of fear there are mirrors of oppression.

In the last few months, perhaps because he has had no one to speak to -- or at least no interlocutor who can respond with actual out-loud speech -- he has learned how to let different parts of his mind and heart speak within him as if they were different souls with their own arguments.

Introspective reflections that might otherwise be liable to stall are helped along by the flow of the landscape...

Is that the secret meaning of the word story, do you think: a storing place of memories?

Is Wisdom derived from the accumulation of one's experiences, or rather one's thoughtful reflection upon what he has learned throughout the process?

I think this is one bad side of a mirror; it helps us to see the reflection of the effects of our own actions on ourselves. We smile and it smiles back to us, we frown and it frowns to us. How I wish it shows us the reflections of the effects of our actions on other people as well so that we will be conscious!

It is funny how different mirrors reveal different aspects, it must be like people you meet, you get to prefer the ones who show an image of you that you like.

It is necessary to monitor your behavior if you wish to change it. Awareness is essential.