self-awareness

When a man is a mystery to himself you can hardly call him mysterious.

I may not know what my heart truly holds, but who does? I think we're all mysteries, even to ourselves.

Who you are is a mystery no one can answer, not even you.

We can know what we do wrong even before we do it, but self-knowledge can't affect or change the outcome, can it? Everyone singing his own little song, convinced it's the most wonderful song the world has ever heard. Don't you see? We create our own thorns, and never stop to count the cost. All we can do is suffer the pain, and tell ourselves it was well worth it.

When man is finally able to see himself and the world around him with clear cognition, he finds a picture far more pleasant. Visible in unmistakable clarity and devastating detail is man__ failure to be what he might be and his misuse of his world. This revelation causes him to leap out in search of a way of life and system of values which will enable him to be more than he has been. He seeks a foundation of self-respect, which will have value system rooted in knowledge and cosmic reality where he expresses himself so that all others, all beings can continue to exist. His values now are of a different order from those at previous levels: They arise not from selfish interest but from the recognition of the magnificence of existence and the desire that it shall continue to be.

I'm extra-good at wanting things. I want things until I feel sort of sick about them. I want enough for two normal people, at least.

Don't play the victim role, empower yourself instead. Place yourself and others around you in a position to win.

Conscience is worse than death, some people commit suicide to evade it.

I had wanted to disappear, if only so the cancer could disappear with me. But the stars whispered that there was no such thing. You don__ ever disappear. You just change. You leave. You move on. But you never disappear. Even when you think you want to.

I have experienced deep despair, mental-ill health and attempt of suicide.

I'd spend about an hour, my room darkening around me, wondering what the hell happened to make me so unsure of who I even was. Because who you are is supposed to be the easiest question in the world to answer, right? Only for me it hadn't been easy for a very long time.

Perhaps defining a self begins with simply making the first choice, simply rising up and deciding what you desire, and then methodically, like writing, putting one word after the other until you have created a whole self and a whole life in the process.

There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.

Some people are born to hold keys, while others are born to use them.

I do not run from beauty, my own or anyone else's. If it is a gift, I claim it and I use it. And if it is a curse, well...I claim it and use it." Victoria da Vinci

When you bury your head in the sand you leave your backside exposed to those who seek to take advantage.

Certainly it would be wonderful if we all knew exactly who we were.

What was it like to be so confident even in your failings that you weren't the least bit bothered when other people pointed them out? I was almost envious.