M.I.A. Quotes

I write in order to find out what I truly know and how I really feel about certain things. Writing requires me to go much deeper into my thoughts and memories than conversation does. Writing provides the solitude necessary to reflect on being in this world.

The best thinking has been done in solitude. The worst has been done in turmoil.

I like to go out on my bike. That's when I do my thinking. Two or three hours on the roads - that's when you get time, and you can think without problems.

There is nothing like writing to force you to think and get your thoughts straight.

In silence, we have an opportunity to reflect, listen, and gain new insights about ourselves. In silence, we can think, feel, and most important of all, breathe. When you seek guidance, understanding, clarity, or peace of mind, the first step is to master the art of silence and to rethink the value of solitude.

I think that if I get into the habit of writing a bit about what happens, or rather doesn't happen, I may lose a little of the sense of isolation and desolation which abides with me. My circumstances allowing of nothing but the ejaculation of one-syllabled reflections, a written monologue by that most interesting being, myself, may have its yet to be discovered consolations.

I always make it a rule never to look back. Otherwise, I'd ask myself how I could write such piffle and live with myself, day after day.

There are days when I'll wake up and think, oh, I've really been something. You know, it won't be the same without me. And then there are days when I wake up and I say, 'Don't kid yourself. Your contribution was minimal. You changed very little. Everything you hated prospered'.

I think that I'm throwing but I'm thrown

I can't think logically about who I am or where I am going. I have been very ecstatic, horribly depressed, shocked, elated, enlightened, and enervated.

I used to worry I was entirely uninteresting, but the truth is I think if my life was more exciting I'd never have any time to write.

Every man whose business it is to think knows that he must for part of the day create about himself a pool of silence.

It's okay to be confused. Confusion is the route to all the clarity in the world.

The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.

There are many things I think about that never get to the point of becoming serious. In other words, I try to talk myself out of writing, sometimes for many years, and when I run out of arguments, I write.

I took my AlDS test. You start reflecting... You start thinking about every nasty, skank-ass... It's like the movie Scrooge, and the Ghost of Pussy Past comes.

What really fueled me, and maybe infuriated me, is that nobody believed in me. Nobody. I don't even think I believe in myself.

Writing is one way to go about thinking, and the practice and habit of writing not only drain the mind but supply it, too.

I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.

Sometimes a man doesn’t know what to do about things and sometimes it’s best to lie very still and try not to think at all about anything.

Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.

Do you ever wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and think, something's not accurate?

There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self-centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I’m not such a wonderful human being.

The thing that usually gets me through the writing is that my feelings of wretched inadequacy are irregularly punctuated by brief flashes of omnipotence.