Why are all reflections lovelier than what we call reality? -- not so grand or so strong, it may be, but always lovelier? Fair as is the gliding sloop on the shining sea, the wavering, trembling, unresting sail below is fairer still.. All mirrors are magic mirrors. The commonest room is a room in a poem when I turn to the glass.. There must be a truth involved in it, though we may but in part lay hold of the meaning.
life truth reflection mirror
Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face - the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young man - all present still, preserved like fossils on superimposed layers, and, like fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us - we have died - what is there to be afraid of?It answers them: But that happened so gradually, so easily. I'm afraid of being rushed.
age living face dying mirror
Why on earth do you carry a mirror around with you? It's purely a defensive device. We seldom quarrel, and this is one of the reasons. Can you imagine yourself getting all worked up and contorted and illogical and then coming face to face with yourself, looking at yourself exactly as you look to everyone else?
anger protection mirrors mirror
The mirror is the worst judge of true beauty
beauty be-yourself beautiful mirror
When you look at the mirror, look inside your beautiful eyes and feel the warm and sound of your heart beat.
beauty heart eyes mirror
The leap of faith is this: You have to believe, or at least pretend you believe until you really believe it, that you are strong enough to take life face on. Eating disorders, on any level, are a crutch. They are also an addiction and illness, but there is no question at all that they are quite simply a way of avoiding the banal, daily, itchy pain of life. Eating disorders provide a little drama, they feed into the desire for constant excitement, everything becomes life-or-death, everything is terribly grand and crashing, very Sturm and Drang. And they are distracting. You don't have to think about any of the nasty minutiae of the real world, you don't get caught up in that awful boring thing called regular life, with its bills and its breakups and its dishes and laundry and groceries and arguments over whose turn it is to change the litter box and bedtimes and bad sex and all that, because you are having a real drama, not a sitcom but a GRAND EPIC, all by yourself, and why would you bother with those foolish mortals when you could spend hours and hours with the mirror, when you are having the most interesting sado-machistic affair with your own image?
belief drama eating-disorders mirror
Look in the mirror. What you see there is what you get from others. When you smile, smile comes back to you. When you get angry, anger comes back to you. When you love, love comes back to you, when you hate, hatred comes back to you. That's very simple. You can make your life however you like by how you behave.
life people communication mirror
I know that mirrors give us a false sense of confidence. I continued. The reflection that we see everyday has nothing to do with how others see us. The glass lies.
perception confidence self-image mirror
Desire is like fog on a bathroom mirror -- its presence incites you to wipe the mirror, and see yourself clearly again.
perception desire mirror
Shakespeare, in some sense, helped create the modern man, didn't he, his influence is that pervasive. He held the mirror up to nature, but he also created that mirror: so the image he created is the very one we hold ourselves up to.
nature shakespeare mirror
Tension is the Mirror of our Past.
past mirror tension
It's what's buried deep inside that frightens me because it's broken, like a shattered mirror.
self soul scared broken inside mirror
The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart..
self shadow reflection abyss mirror
Every man carries with him through life a mirror, as unique and impossible to get rid of as his shadow.
self shadow mirror
For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.
existentialism mirror
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.
girls experiences understand selfish mirror
There must be some kind of internal time distortion effect in here, because when I look at myself in the little mirror above my sink, what I see is my father's face, my face turning into his. I am beginning to feel how the man looked, especially how he looked on those nights he came home so tired he couldn't even make it through dinner without nodding off, sitting there with his bowl of soup cooling in front of him, a rich pork-and-winter-melon-saturated broth that, moment by moment, was losing - or giving up - its tiny quantum of heat into the vast average temperature of the universe.
tiredness father mirror
The mirror will only lie, when you look at it through a mask.
lie mask mirror
The girl in the mirror wasn't who I wanted to be and her life wasn't the one I wanted to have.
life reflection mirror
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.
self-image reflection mirror
I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what she saw that I didn't.
reflection insecure mirror
.. That icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror..
distortion reflection ice mirror
I have rubbed, knocked and brushed up against a thousand windows, trying to get an image.
self-discovery image mirror
Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever. (p.33)
depression journey smile questions prayer wind autumn eyes madness bones angel colors clock apple tree mirror god horror
What does a mirror look at?
scifi mirror
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