Complemental Words Quotes & Sayings

I wonder why it is that we so often imprison ourselves in the opinions of other people. There can be no punishment worse than conspiring in our own diminishment. — Dawna Markova

The way telepathy ordinarily works is that we mentally tune in to the same vibratory frequency we send out, and we especially tune in the frequencies that we focus on or care about. It's a simple case of like attracting like: If we dwell on fear, focus on danger and injury, and feel like victims, we're going to draw the same to us. If, on the other hand, we focus on positive, life-affirming, and loving experiences, these will be returned to our field of consciousness by others. — Sonia Choquette

But for the hours of the night, I was helpless; powerless to move as a dragonfly in amber. — Diana Gabaldon

My technique of working is I go around with my iPhone and with my sketchbook. I take thousands and thousands and thousands of iPhone photos. I also draw from life. I can draw really, really, really fast. It's a way that I build a rapport with people. — Molly Crabapple

Why must you know the details of my troubles to have compassion? Is it not enough to show compassion simply because you know that everyone has troubles? — Richelle E. Goodrich

The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I — Charlotte Bronte

We learn to understand ourselves in and through it because the artwork is not a timeless present for a pure aesthetic consciousness (i.e., it is not an encounter with an object for which one can only express feelings of pleasure or displeasure), but rather, a real encounter with a world that presents itself historically. The self-understanding that occurs in relation to the experience of art, Gadamer tells us, is only possible when our experiencing is not discontinuous with "the unity and integrity of the other."17 — James Risser

How many times in the past three months have I been reminded of Ruby's two selves, the careful courteous young woman who spoke so sweetly to strangers and the person she let loose at home, where she was safe, where she could be spiky and harsh and uncertain and at sea? I have two selves now, too, the one that goes out in the world and says what sound like the right things and nods and listens and sometimes even smiles, and the real woman, who watches her in wonder, who is nothing but a wound, a wound that will not stop throbbing except when it is anesthetized. I know what the world wants: It wants me to heal. But to heal I would have to forget, and if I forget my family truly dies. — Anna Quindlen

The paradox of the prophet: his very success is his failure. The prophet whose time has come no longer shocks; he entertains. — Peter Drucker