Best 3064 quotes in «psychology quotes» category

I had a dream. In the dream someone was critical of my newest novel The Snail's Castle. I said, "don't worry about it. If you don't like it, just throw it out the window." I awoke, grinning, with a wonderful feeling of freedom.

I had learned to love smiling. I smiled, made eye contact. I was sincere. I still am. I had no qualms looking someone in the eye, smiling, and saying, “Hi. I like you.” It was my way of branding them “friend.” It’s something I practice to this day. If I love someone, I waste no time in telling them. Life is too short.

...I had dragons sleeping within,” I said. “Dragons I didn’t know were there. And nothing awakens a sleeping dragon more like happiness and all things good.

I harbor ill feelings toward a society, and a clergy, that allows marriage partners to split over the smallest incompatibility, where divorce comes in a multitude of flavors, like Baskin Robbins ice cream, where men and women can blame one another and everything except themselves for matrimony's mess. They look for externals over which they have no control and, fingering them, take no responsibility.

I hated checking my voicemail. I associate it with matters of importance and nothing ever was. Such a pain. I also hated guests, change, interruptions, and the feeling I got when someone came to my door. Anxiety, terror, then the arousal. I wanted him to leave and afterward I would indulge in a bit of fantasy.

I have a fear of relationships,” I began. “When I love, I love easy, deep, hard, strong, and long. But I can not marry. I can not live with anyone. I can not accept gifts from anyone or let anyone close enough for intimacy.

I have been given so much in life merely for knowing how to ask for it.

I have clients who are nowhere near as insane as their family is, but they're the people who have been targeted with the mental illnesses because that’s convenient for everyone involved.

I have long stressed the Hegelian procedure at work in this reversal of positions of the beautiful soul in relation to the reality he accuses. The point is not to adapt him to it, but to show him that he is only too well adapted to it, since he assists in its very fabrication.

I have never been sad because my losses are my profits

I have no interest in what is good for the corporate government, as it is extensively corrupt. What interests me is what is good for the common people.

I have the mind of Christ. The best life you could ever live is the one that your creator destined you for. The one He made you for. He has given us everything we need ......... to become like Him. To reach to your potentials. Worship Him in spirit and in truth.

I have treated many hundreds of patients. Among those in the second half of life - that is to say, over 35 - there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which the living religions of every age have given their followers, and none of them has really been healed who did not regain his religious outlook.

I hear you whispering, "Will she come?

I hold the hands of people I never touch. I provide comfort to people I never embrace. I watch people walk into brick walls, the same ones over and over again, and I coax them to turn around and try to walk in a different direction. People rarely see me gladly. As a rule, I catch the residue of their despair. I see people who are broken, and people who only think they are broken. I see people who have had their faces rubbed in their failures. I see weak people wanting anesthesia and strong people who wonder what they have done to make such an enemy of fate. I am often the final pit stop people take before they crawl across the finish line that is marked: I give up. Some people beg me to help. Some people dare me to help. Sometimes the beggars and the dare-ers look the same. Absolutely the same. I'm supposed to know how to tell them apart. Some people who visit me need scar tissue to cover their wounds. Some people who visit me need their wounds opened further, explored for signs of infection and contamination. I make those calls, too. Some days I'm invigorated by it all. Some days I'm numbed. Always, I'm humbled by the role of helper. And, occasionally, I'm ambushed. ~ Stephen White "Critical Conditions

I hope that here in America more and more the ideal of the well-trained and vigorous body will be maintained neck by neck with that of the well-trained and vigorous mind as the two coequal halves of the higher education for men and women alike.

I hurt myself by hurting you.” His face wore a look of compassion. I hated that look, because it reminded me that he was a good person, that he had tried over and over to apologize. He unwittingly brought out the part of me that I hated, and I projected that hate onto him, because it was easier to hate someone else than to hate myself. Tears poured out of my eyes. And he wrapped his arms around me, holding me as wept. And I hated that his arms still felt good.

I immersed myself in my relationship with my husband, in little ways at first. Dutch would come home from his morning workout and I’d bring him coffee as he stepped out of the shower. He’d slip into a crisp white shirt and dark slacks and run a little goop through his hair, and I’d eye him in the mirror with desire and a sultry smile that he couldn’t miss. He’d head to work and I’d put a love note in his bag—just a line about how proud I was of him. How beautiful he was. How happy I was as his wife. He’d come home and cook dinner and instead of camping out in front of the TV while he fussed in the kitchen, I’d keep him company at the kitchen table and we’d talk about our days, about our future, about whatever came to mind. After dinner, he’d clear the table and I’d do the dishes, making sure to compliment him on the meal. On those weekends when he’d head outside to mow the lawn, I’d bring him an ice-cold beer. And, in those times when Dutch was in the mood and maybe I wasn’t, well, I got in the mood and we had fun. As the weeks passed and I kept discovering little ways to open myself up to him, the most amazing thing happened. I found myself falling madly, deeply, passionately, head-over-heels in love with my husband. I’d loved him as much as I thought I could love anybody before I’d married him, but in treating him like my own personal Superman, I discovered how much of a superhero he actually was. How giving he was. How generous. How kind, caring, and considerate. How passionate. How loving. How genuinely good. And whatever wounds had never fully healed from my childhood finally, at long last, formed scar tissue. It was like being able to take a full breath of air for the first time in my life. It was transformative. And it likely would save our marriage, because, at some point, all that withholding would’ve turned a loving man bitter. On some level I think I’d known that and yet I’d needed my sister to point it out to me and help me change. Sometimes it’s good to have people in your life that know you better than you know yourself.

I invite each of you to let go of your fears for just one day and say YES to life… say YES to love… say YES to You! You can always go back to saying ‘no’ another day.

I just trust my intuition taking into account the psychology of things. Therefore, I am not persuaded by facts, but by behaviors.

Ik mis het licht in mijn ogen. Ze zijn dof.

I knew where I was. It had been too long. I blinked back the image and tried to clear my head. I had to remember which world I was in.

I know you know I like you.

I learned my most priceless lesson of all from that place. I learned how to teach myself. ... Hand me a book and I could do anything.

I learned to take very little. I learned to want nothing more. I learned something else during those nights. When all the world slept, a new silence settled into the forest. With candle in hand and dressed in gowns of gossamer, I would slip out into the night and dance to the sound of silence. Barefoot, I would spin then lay in the cool grass in a strip of moonlight. I would lie there all night and gaze up at the stars, so silent, so clear there in the wood, and so, so far away. I lived between worlds. The war, my reality, my hell and this world in the forest of fantasy. And I’m stuck. I can’t go back. I forever toggle between two worlds and one is ever so much more real to me than yours.At night, beneath the moon, I didn’t need my worlds to escape. I only needed to open my eyes and see the world as it was. Quiet and calm and at peace, just as I still see it. I escaped through my music and wrote poetry to ease the pain…and letters. I poured so much of my heart into the letters I wrote to Erik, who I could see so easily on the other side. I still have them. Every letter I ever wrote him. During those times, when the world was dark, Erik became more real to me than anything else. He was quiet. He listened. He held me in the silence. He played his violin for me. And he loved me. When I cried, I closed my eyes and felt him envelope me. Only Erik and the cats ever came. No matter how long and loud I cried, my parents, no one ever came. I was fourteen. I was alone and all I wanted was for someone to love me.

Les psychiatres, c'est très efficace. Moi, avant, je pissais au lit, j'avais honte. Je suis allé voir un psychiatre, je suis guéri. Maintenant, je pisse au lit, mais j'en suis fier. Psychiatrists are very efficient. Before, I used to wet the bed. I went to see a psychiatrist, and was cured. Now, when I wet the bed, I'm proud of it.

Il faut beaucoup de temps pour changer notre opinion sur un personnage déterminé.

Il est bien dangereux de poursuivre trop longtemps un effort dans la même direction.

Il faut toujours être fort dans la vie, même pour être heureux.

Illusions can and do create PHYSICAL Dis-Ease within our bodies. So it’s most important to master our thoughts, to become cognizant of what we are spending our precious mental energy on each moment of every day.

I’ll give you until dawn. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll answer. Whatever you wish, I’ll consent.

Il n'y a rien au monde de si fatigant, de si épuisant que les actions sociales.

Il n’y a rien de si embrouillé de ce qui est banal.

Il n'y a pas de folie qui, chez l'homme, ne puisse se transformer en réalité.

I long for the day I no longer long for him.

I loved you, because we are the same.

I loved you and the next day I saw a rainbow.

I love easy, judge no one, laugh often, and smile always. I listen, I love, I joke, I support, I comfort. I keep my tears in check, my emotions in check, and my heart is forever open. I am not jealous, I give you freedom, speak my mind. I do not lie, and will never seek to change you or hold you down. And I hold all the passion of Ireland in my heart. To boot, I took the time to learn what a man wants and needs…in and out of bed. I don’t cook. And I can not be had. If you’re lucky, I’ll love you. Don’t ever love me back. I’m only worth a dollar.”... “I didn’t choose loneliness. I simple chose to accept it! To stop fighting it. Once I did that, my war ended. What I chose was to no longer bring anyone down with me. I am a black widow. I am the worst kind. I am the widow who destroys lives, kills hearts, and shatters dreams and walks away, leaving the man a hollowed shell and a life that resembles mine. And I do this without wanting or meaning to. I do it without knowing I’ve done it at all! “But I, unlike them, am broken. I’m fucked up so much that I can live quite comfortably with my lot. While others—normal people, unbroken people—can’t. No one is scarred enough to live with me. Not Isaiah. Not even Raven. So, no, William. I am too broken to be loved.” ... “I found the tunnel’s end and the light that shines from the other side of sanity. Who others have done what I have done and have emerged unscarred, unscathed, and as kind as I? I am still smiling a warm and sincere smile. While others emerge cold and cruel and vile.” “I have simply come to terms with what I am and I know if I were to change this about me, I could not live as I do now, happy and content and alone. If I try to fix this mess I have become, I will not survive it. And will do more damage than good. No. There are no others like me. I am very much alone, as I will ever be.” ... “My needs are met,” I assured him and smiled. “I am smiling with my head held high. I am smiling with my face to the sky. And although I am dying inside, I am crying with my head raised high. I only wish to love greater than I have hurt. And I will spend the rest of my days laughing and smiling to compensate for all the crying I have done.

I love to share my problems with friends. They think I'm revealing my personal life, but I'm actually revealing theirs. What a person does with what you give reveals the real character of such person, and you can envision and predict a whole set of interactions through their life and based on such reactions. You can even predict how long their marriage will last, or what they will do when you need them.

I love like Sleeping Beauty.

I love you like I have never loved before.

I love who I am becoming when all I am becoming is love.

Il y a beaucoup d'individus qui, au fond, n'ont rien à faire, qui ne sont ni riches, ni pauvres, ni généraux, ni soldats, ni bons, ni méchants, et qui sont bien contents si on leur fait jouer un rôle.

Il y a énormément de gens, qui, sans le savoir, sentent peu, aiment peu, et peut-être même ne sentent ni n'aiment du tout.

Imagine a psychiatrist sitting down with a broken human being saying, I am here for you, I am committed to your care, I want to make you feel better, I want to return your joy to you, I don't know how I will do it but I will find out and then I will apply one hundred percent of my abilities, my training, my compassion and my curiosity to your health -- to your well-being, to your joy. I am here for you and I will work very hard to help you. I promise. If I fail it will me my failure, not yours. I am the professional. I am the expert. You are experiencing great pain right now and it is my job and my mission to cure you from your pain. I am absolutely committed to your care... I know you are suffering. I know you are afraid, I love you. I want to cure you and I won't stop trying to help you. You are my patient. I am your doctor. You are my patient. Imagine a doctor phoning you at all hours of the day and night to tell you that he or she had been reading some new stuff on the subject of whatever and was really excited about how it might help you. Imagine a doctor calling you in an important meeting and saying listen, I'm so sorry to bother you but I"ve been thinking really hard about your problems and I'd like to try something completely new. I need to see you immediately! I"m absolutely committed to your care! I think this might help you. I won't give up on you.

Imagination blocks you like a bolt on a door. Burn that bar. (Rumi)

Imagination is the research laboratory of discovery.

Imaginemos la reacción de un joven entusiasta de los coches al que acaban de prestarle uno por primera vez en su vida. Al principio experimentará alegría, incluso euforia. Luego, conforme transcurre el tiempo, aunque sigue contento, la excitación de sentirse motorizado se va atenuando poco a poco. Y si pasado un mes disfrutando del auto a sus anchas, ya no puede continuar disponiendo de él y tiene que devolverlo, de entrada no recuperará su estado original: sentirá añoranza de cuando lo tenía. Lógicamente, con el paso del tiempo también esta morriña se irá desvaneciendo progresivamente, hasta volver al estado emocional de partida.

I’m going to kill you! I’m going to fucking kill you!”You can hear that only so many times before you believe it. During those times, I slipped into my worlds. The more I read, the more worlds came to me. I added a subterranean lake that was illogically bathed in moonlight to my list. Those worlds—that lake, the room with the onyx cats, and Ireland—they all became very real to me. Much more real than the life I lived where a monster threatened to kill me on the other side of the door.

I’m helped by a gentle notion from Buddhist psychology, that there are “near enemies” to every great virtue—reactions that come from a place of care in us, and which feel right and good, but which subtly take us down an ineffectual path. Sorrow is a near enemy to compassion and to love. It is borne of sensitivity and feels like empathy. But it can paralyze and turn us back inside with a sense that we can’t possibly make a difference. The wise Buddhist anthropologist and teacher Roshi Joan Halifax calls this a “pathological empathy” of our age. In the face of magnitudes of pain in the world that come to us in pictures immediate and raw, many of us care too much and see no evident place for our care to go. But compassion goes about finding the work that can be done. Love can’t help but stay present