Best 12844 quotes in «self quotes» category

É como quando você se olha no espelho e diz seu nome. E chega a um ponto em que nada parece real.

Education is the key for self liberation.

Elle se lève. Elle se regarde dans un miroir et ne voit que des cercles : son visage en forme de cercle, sa tête en cercle, la Lune, la Terre et le Soleil en cercle. Elle est un cercle dans un cercle dans un cercle, et tout tourne. Elle se recouche et elle s'endort.

Elliott was disarmingly bright, according to everyone who knew him, an avid reader of Dostoevsky, Kafka, Beckett, Stendhal, Freud, the Buddha, all of whom destabilized notions of identity. I think he knew how little we know about who we are. The idea comes through in lyrics. “I don’t know who I am,” he says simply; at times he wishes he were no one. He’s a stickman shooting blanks at emptiness, living with “one dimension dead.” He’s an invisible man with a see-through mind. He’s a junkyard full of false starts. He’s a ghost-writer, feeling hollow.

Embracing change can be daunting, but it is our willingness to do better that makes it worthwhile.

Emotional intelligence is knowledge of the “Self,” understanding who we are, and employing this knowledge to exercise self-control in our relationships with other beings and the world. Only by knowing ourselves can we responsibly and efficiently manage our senses, thoughts, words and actions, and behave in a benevolent manner toward other beings and the world.

Empathy is a quality today that we need more than ever. Throughout his life Jesus showed empathy and care for others on a level never seen before. From him we learn that Gods ways of service to others before obsession with self is the path he wants us to walk on and deep down we know it.

Enjoy being you. Have fun. And be different.

Enlightenment comes when you understand the language of heart - the language of tree, birds and the nature.

Enlightenment is nothing but to experience your own mind. The experience of the self too is experiencing the intrinsic nature of the mind.

En natt i lengst forsvundne tider våknet mennesket og så seg selv... da dyrene kom til sine vannhull, hvor han ventet dem av gammel vane, da kjente han ikke lenger tigerspranget i sitt blod, men en stor salme om lidelsens broderskap mellom alt som lever.

Enlightenment is not about cocooning one’s self, but about integrating more fully with both your self and life.

Enlightenment lacks any form of judgment.

Enlightenment is to replace your own self with the self of the universe!

E sempre é bom termos consciência de que dentro de nós há alguém que tudo sabe, tudo quer e age melhor do que nós mesmos

Eternity, sacred time.

Even I don’t know myself... In fact, I don’t know if I really have a self at all, as I’m constantly playing different roles and pretending – not so much on stage as in real life...

Even the self-assured truth-finders and self-proclaimed freedom-fighters reject Truth. As admirable as such endeavors may be, they still only really want it so long as it to some extent confirms what they had already presumed to be true.

Even the Sun gets tired of rising, but he does it out of love for the Earth...

Every being experiences themselves as the center of their experience. Consciousness is what lies at our very core, and connects us all to each other. We may appear to be separate and individual because of the various forms our Consciousness inhabits, but below the surface the substance of our being is one and the same.

Every angel is terrifying. Through the darkness, they move silently... I will go down into death with you. I must go where I must go To see what I must see In that place where no one knows... ... This is where love is taking me. You have been leading Me, angels, in and out of death. I have no idea who you are. Eurydice. Is she nothing Or is she your mirror? I don't know anymore. I am at war. Perhaps that which is given - Being human - Is too hard, And so it is love that brings us, To what cannot be born, To ourselves, And so we must change, Must descend, guided by love, into the unknown. Lovers disappear in each other. Do they disappear forever? Where do they go?

Every action is a performance.

Everybody tries to protect this vulnerable two three four five six seven eight year old inside, and to acquire skills and aptitudes for dealing with the situations that threaten to overwhelm it... Usually, that child is a wretchedly isolated undeveloped little being. It’s been protected by the efficient armour, it’s never participated in life, it’s never been exposed to living and to managing the person’s affairs, it’s never been given responsibility for taking the brunt. And it’s never properly lived. That’s how it is in almost everybody. And that little creature is sitting there, behind the armour, peering through the slits. And in its own self, it is still unprotected, incapable, inexperienced... And in fact, that child is the only real thing in them. It’s their humanity, their real individuality, the one that can’t understand why it was born and that knows it will have to die, in no matter how crowded a place, quite on its own. That’s the carrier of all the living qualities. It’s the centre of all the possible magic and revelation. What doesn’t come out of that creature isn’t worth having, or it’s worth having only as a tool—for that creature to use and turn to account and make meaningful... And so, wherever life takes it by surprise, and suddenly the artificial self of adaptations proves inadequate, and fails to ward off the invasion of raw experience, that inner self is thrown into the front line—unprepared, with all its childhood terrors round its ears. And yet that’s the moment it wants. That’s where it comes alive—even if only to be overwhelmed and bewildered and hurt. And that’s where it calls up its own resources—not artificial aids, picked up outside, but real inner resources, real biological ability to cope, and to turn to account, and to enjoy. That’s the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they’re suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That’s why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember. But when that child gets buried away under their adaptive and protective shells—he becomes one of the walking dead, a monster. So when you realise you’ve gone a few weeks and haven’t felt that awful struggle of your childish self—struggling to lift itself out of its inadequacy and incompetence—you’ll know you’ve gone some weeks without meeting new challenge, and without growing, and that you’ve gone some weeks towards losing touch with yourself.

Everybody knows deep down that life is as much about the things that do not happen as the things that do and that's not something that ought to be glossed over or denied because without frustration there would hardly be any need to daydream. And daydreams return me to my original sense of things and I luxuriate in these fervid primary visions until I am entirely my unalloyed self again. So even though it sometimes feels as if one could just about die from disappointment I must concede that in fact in a rather perverse way it is precisely those things I did not get that are keeping me alive.

Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.

Everyone ought to decide his or her own fate.

Every stage of life is a chapter of a book.

Everything exists as information in a field of infinite possibilities, and it is our Consciousness that renders the information and causes it to appear as the material world.

Everything in the world has a life span and We (the Self) are without a life span, so how can the two correlate? To make association with those with a life span (mortal), we too have to become one with a life span. And that has created all this fiasco.

Everything we perceive to be solid and static is made up of almost entirely empty space.

Everything you experience is a blessing and pushes you toward realizing your true self.

Every voyage is self-awaken.

Faith for Jesus is the opposite of anxiety. If you are anxious, if you are trying to control everything, if you are worried about many things, you don’t have faith, according to Jesus. You do not trust that God is good and on your side. You’re trying to do it all yourself, lift yourself up by your own bootstraps.

Faith is a forward motion.

everything that is in the world, there is a correspondence on every level of existence. The macrocosm is a reflection of the microcosm, and the way we experience the outer world is a reflection of our inner state: it is our mirror. If we are in harmony with ourselves, then we will be in harmony with the outer world, i.e. God. If we change from within, then everything around us also changes. I certainly knew how true this was.

Except for pure Soul (Shuddhatma), the mind, speech, body, intellect is all subject to vyavasthit (energy that runs the world). It is all scientific circumstantial evidences. With 'This is mine' and 'I am (this)', divisions occurred, and that is why all these difficulties exist, intents of false attribution (aropit bhaav) arose. That is why one missed out on one's own form as the Self (swaroop)!

Fearlessness (nirbhayta) arises through a Self that is free of doubt. After becoming free of doubt, asangata (a state of absolute separation) arises.

Feeding the ego is starving the wisdom, the choice is yours.

Feelings trap us in the self, Tony dear. Doing a thing because you feel wonderful about it—even a work of charity—is in the end a selfish act. We perform the work not to feel wonderful but to know and love the other. It's the same with your romance. You may not feel your love, but God is still your loved one, your other.

Focused awareness of the Self in one direction (upayog) is considered enlightened awareness (jagruti).

First, create your ego. Then destroy it. This is all of life.

For everyone now strives most of all to seperate his person, wishing to experience the fullness of life within himself, and yet what comes of all his efforts is not the fullness of life, but full suicide, for instead of the fullness of self-definition, they fall into complete isolation.

For a moment the radio wavered between stations and I was so busy making myself marvelous.

Forgive yourself when you fall down because we all fall down.

For how long does one dwell in the Self? Once the complete state as the Self arises, there is indeed no more dwelling (in the Self), is there! The Self (developing I) has indeed become the Self (absolute Self), so the state of dwelling [in the Self] has altogether come to an end!

For I have nothing to lean on, nowhere to call my home and there is nowhere I will go for Christmas to rest my head and touch familiar walls. I have no degree to show on paper or employment to take care of my health or the reassurance that I can pay my rent. And I have no right to complain because this is the road I choose and I built it myself, not really knowing where I wanted it to lead, but I have hope in all things ahead and behind and I am learning to let myself go. Forget my own ego and believe that what I am doing is grander than my very own self.

for me obedience to another is the decay of self

For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

For the broken hearts, I promise it gets better. I promise that the minutes and hours will go by faster and that the ache in your chest will stop. I promise that the day you can forgive and realize that you don't have to feel this way will come. I promise you that right now, no matter what age you are, it will hurt. But pain is temporary. I promise that months or even years from now you'll look back and realize how silly you're acting. Although it doesn't feel silly. I promise that your relationship with them may or may not bloom into at least a friendship. I promise it'll stop hurting. Give it time, give yourself time to be an individual again. Find the confidence to do things on your own. Reconnect with the friends you pushed away. Form a better self. Be selfish. Stop thinking about their opinion. xoxoxo, M

For the most part, people strenuously resist any redefinition of morality, because it shakes them to the very core of their being to think that in pursuing virtue they may have been feeding vice, or in fighting vice they may have in fact been fighting virtue.