The Cons of Introspection

I used to complain quite a bit about the lack of introspection in other people. More recently, another possibility has struck me – maybe it was I who was engaging in excessive introspection. Sorta like having a buggy Garbage Collector for cyclic structures.

Of Sex and Marriage – “…it seems to me that we are talking ourselves to death.”

The Pursuit of Happiness – “Happiness is the absence of the striving for happiness.”

We’re all Big Babies – “The crucial difference is my grandfather’s lack of self-consciousness, and that self-consciousness is a hallmark of the perpetual, infantilised adolescents we have all become, monsters of introspection hovering twitchily on the edge of self-obsession, occasionally aware that the life that exists only to be examined is barely manageable; barely, indeed, a life.”

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