My head aches, my eyes burn, my arms and legs have given up, and my face in the mirror has a grayish cast. The bed, across the room, calls in its unmistakable lover's croon, Come to me, come, only I can make you truly happy, oh, how happy I'll make you, don't resist, remember how you moan with pleasure the instant we touch. . . . . Laura Acosta
I love looking in the mirror and feeling good about what I see.
The only person standing in your way is staring back at you in the mirror.
This autobiography of mine is a mirror, and I am looking at myself in it all the time. Incidentally I notice the people that pass along at my back - I get glimpses of them in the mirror - and whenever they say or do anything that can help advertise me and flatter me and raise me in my own estimation, I set these things down in my autobiography.
As we gaze into the mirror it holds up for us, we too easily imagine that what we behold is Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longings and desires.
Scientists tracking mirror neurons noticed that a monkey will get excited not just when holding a banana, but also when seeing someone else holding a banana.
Seeing my malevolent face in the mirror, my benevolent soul shrinks back.
Movies mirror the times, they do not create them.
Everything you experience mirrors a part of you.
What annoys a person who suicides? The life itself. Boredom. Tiredness that descends on every morning when you look at yourself at the mirror.
Box gap is not a thing. If you need to back up to a mirror and bend over to find out how you look, you are playing to the wrong audience.
I am the man in the mirror, anything you see in me is in you, I am you, and when you can admit that you will be free. I am just a mirror.
The sad thing is that somehow, it is a type of event that mirrors the artist. You take it into account, and you're reminded in this specific case what the artist's work is about, what his life is like, and how life mirrors art.
I've only been in love with a beer bottle and a mirror.
I can’t believe how much this place has grown,” Hazel muttered. The taxi driver grinned in the rearview mirror. “Been a long time since you visited, miss?” “About seventy years,” Hazel said. The driver slid the glass partition closed and drove on in silence.
I handed the test in five minutes before the end of the day. Mrs. Baker took it calmly, then reached into her bottom drawer for an enormous red pen with a wide felt tip. "Stand here and we'll see how you've done," she said, which is sort of like a dentist handing you a mirror and saying, "Sit here and watch while I drill a hole in your tooth.
So I said to myself, "There but for the grace of God go I," only to realize I was looking in a mirror and had seriously overestimated the grace of God.
I'm hatin' my reflection, I walk around the house tryin' to fight mirrors, I can't stand what I look like
Understand that there is no relationship between your inner happiness and your inner joy and the outer things that you experience and behold in the world, that it all begins with you, the world is a mirror to your own Self, when you can look at things and feel joy not in the things but in yourself.
My credo is etched on my mirror in my bathroom and I see it when I brush my teeth in the morning. It says, "Don't worry, Be Happy, Feel Good. " When you see that first thing, and you reflect on it, the rest of the day seems to glide by pretty well.