Best 231 quotes in «mirror quotes» category

Easy to break mirror; less easy to see oneself. (Facile de casser le miroir; - Moins facile parfois de s’y voir.)

Ever play 'mirror mirror on the wall' with two mirrors facing each other?

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

Every morning, look in the mirror and affirm positive words into your life.

Every new encounter provides a new mirror for me to view my own experiences through, and there is a level of selfishness during this period as I hunger to understand more about the girls' lives in order to understand mine. If I could figure out what had happened to them, perhaps I had a better chance of explaining it all to myself.

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.

For your information, Lester, there are at least five wonderful parts of the female body that can be viewed by the owner only with a hand mirror.' And as they stared after me, I went regally back down the hallway and up the stairs to Dad's room.

Everybody looks good in their own mirror!

Every morning he cast a mistrustful glance at the mirror then dragged a safety razor across cheeks that bore the faint shadow of teenage blemishes that countless facials and laser treatments hadn’t entirely eradicated.

Every nation needs a crystal clear mirror to see its stupidities, to see its hypocrisies, to see its faults and its evils! No nation is saint! Every nation’s history is full of primitiveness and barbarity, full of wars and murders! Let every nation sees its face very clearly! Let them face their faces so that in the future they may be something better!

Every seed wants to die in the soil! Every umbrella wants to live in a perpetually rainy world! Every mirror wants to see its own face in another mirror! Everything in this universe has dreams they wish to realise!

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.

For your information, Lester, there are at least five wonderful parts of the female body that can be viewed by the owner only with a hand mirror.

From time to time, we all must go unto a landscape—be it inner or outer landscape—where there are no hiding places. Allowing the stark awe and silence to aid us in both communing and confronting the depth of ourselves. We fear emptiness because we know that within those places of nothingness we will come face-to-face with who we are and gaze into the internal mirror. But what is the alternative? Shall we go our entire life without hearing our own voice . . . without ever having met who we are when isolated from all?

Four eyes full of gleams and radiance beneath their lashes, filling the looking-glass. Questions shooting out and then hiding again. I don't know: Gleams and radiance, gleaming from you to me, from me to you, and from me to you alone—into the mirror and out again, and never an answer about what this is, never an explanation.

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

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

Good writing is a mirror of the mind where readers can see themselves again and again.

He had the same look on his face that I had every day when I looked in the mirror. He was nothing more than a shell of a person.

From mirror to mirror — this is what I happen to dream of — the totality of things, the whole, the entire universe, divine wisdom could concentrate their luminous rays into a single mirror. Or perhaps the knowledge of everything is buried in the soul, and a system of mirrors that would multiply my image would then reveal to me the soul of the universe, which is hidden in mine.

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.

Heck, I don't know what it is. All I know is that my mind fractured like a mirror one day and here I am almost ten years later still cutting myself on the shards.

How frequently do you look in the mirror? Does your face please you? Are you disgusted to detect familial features? Do you worship or hate your ancestors? Do you consider your image erotic? Do you pretend that you are a star's child? If you squint, does your reflection become abstract? Is abstraction a transcendental escape from identity or a psychotic spasm of depersonalization?

Ich bin gern erlöst von meinem Spiegelbild, von der Frage, wie ich aussehe. Auch ohne Spiegel weiß ich, wie es mir geht, ich brauche diesen Umweg nicht. Es ist mir unangenehm: mich ständig einem Urteil unterwerfen, mit einem Idealbild vergleichen, mit früheren Fotos, mit dem Bild, das andere - wie ich glaube - von mir haben.

I considered sex work, but then I bent over and looked at my asshole in a mirror. Nobody was going to pay me for access to that thing.

I don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at you. To dodge your skin in the hallway and leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat. It takes much too effort to stare at the sink so my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror. It takes much too effort to look away as we undress and lie apart in the now bigger bed. It takes much too effort to stiffen my body because sleepy limbs forget fights and pride is always lost in dreams. It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us. I dread the light peeking through the parted curtains and empathise with your groans — I didn’t get any sleep either. I really don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at one another when it’s so easy for us to love.

Hide in the morrow. No one will look for you there.

Hide in the mirror. No one will look for you there.

I don't take wrinkles seriously. They only exist in the mirror.

If you do not cultivate your life's environment, you will not captivate the worlds enlightenment.

If you are unaware of what's within, you will be shown in the mirror of your near future life experience. Wiser to keep a step ahead.

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.

If you’re looking for that one person who can change your life, take a look in the mirror.

If you would seek to find yourself look not in the mirror for there is but a shadow there' A stranger.... SILENIUS, ODES TO TRUTH

I grab the pillows off the bed and chuck them at the reflection in the mirror of the girl I no longer know. I watch as the girl in the mirror stares back at me, sobbing pathetically. The weakness in her tears infuriates me.

I had a bizarre rapport with this mirror and spent a lot of time gazing into the glass to see who was there. Sometimes it looked like me. At other times, I could see someone similar but different in the reflection. A few times, I caught the switch in mid-stare, my expression re-forming like melting rubber, the creases and features of my face softening or hardening until the mutation was complete. Jekyll to Hyde, or Hyde to Jekyll. I felt my inner core change at the same time. I would feel more confident or less confident; mature or childlike; freezing cold or sticky hot, a state that would drive Mum mad as I escaped to the bathroom where I would remain for two hours scrubbing my skin until it was raw. The change was triggered by different emotions: on hearing a particular piece of music; the sight of my father, the smell of his brand of aftershave. I would pick up a book with the certainty that I had not read it before and hear the words as I read them like an echo inside my head. Like Alice in the Lewis Carroll story, I slipped into the depths of the looking glass and couldn’t be sure if it was me standing there or an impostor, a lookalike. I felt fully awake most of the time, but sometimes while I was awake it felt as if I were dreaming. In this dream state I didn’t feel like me, the real me. I felt numb. My fingers prickled. My eyes in the mirror’s reflection were glazed like the eyes of a mannequin in a shop window, my colour, my shape, but without light or focus. These changes were described by Dr Purvis as mood swings and by Mother as floods, but I knew better. All teenagers are moody when it suits them. My Switches could take place when I was alone, transforming me from a bright sixteen-year-old doing her homework into a sobbing child curled on the bed staring at the wall. The weeping fit would pass and I would drag myself back to the mirror expecting to see a child version of myself. ‘Who are you?’ I’d ask. I could hear the words; it sounded like me but it wasn’t me. I’d watch my lips moving and say it again, ‘Who are you?

I had a dream that I had brown hair…I woke up and ran to the mirror…Phew! I’m still a blonde.

If you erase your memory completely, you cannot see your face on the mirror, you only see someone else looking at you!

I have every expectation that mirrored buildings will be regarded as an architectural cock-up in the future.

I have hope in who I am becoming. I have belief in every scar and disgraceful word I have ever spoken or been told because it is still teaching me and I have hope in who I am becoming. They say it takes 756 days to run to someone you love and they also say that the only romance worth fighting for is the one with yourself and I know by now that they say a lot of things, people talking everywhere without saying a word, but if it took me all those years to learn myself or teach myself how to look into the mirror without breaking it I know for a fact that it was a fight worth fighting. I stood up for my own head and so did my heart and we are coming to terms with ourselves. Shaking hands, saying ”let’s make this work for we have places to go and people to see and we will need each other” So I have hope in who I am becoming. It’s July and I have hope in who I am becoming.

I have never heard a lady say 'arse,'" the emperor said mildly. "I haven't been a lady for long," I reminded him. A little demon–made of exhaustion and the emperors smile– pushed me into adding,"For five years I've been saying 'arse.' It's hard to stop saying 'arse' after that many years. I suppose I should stop saying 'arse,' since ladies don't say-" "'Arse'," he finished for me. I met his grin.

If you look in the mirror and you find an enemy, you are yet to conquer yourself.

I laugh at the wrinkles in the mirror.

Il mondo in cui viviamo non è altro che uno specchio che riflette un mondo nascosto sotto la sua superficie argentea, un paese dove il tempo è solo un dettaglio insignificante, senza nessun potere. Spero di ritrovarti là.

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 might be fragile like a mirror. You might be the rock. Hit me all you want. But still in the end I’ll be the one shining.

I have rubbed, knocked and brushed up against a thousand windows, trying to get an image.

I'm not here to grant you the extraordinary love you never had for yourself. I'm here, on my own accord, to love you. So that when you stare into my mirror eyes, you may see how extraordinary you are.

I'm no longer pliéing and tenduing privately in my mirror; instead, I'm following my passion. Pen and paper brings me complete joy.

I'm not a mirror. And I don't break like glass.