Reflection (n.) is always itself unreflected — every act of looking at consciousness needs a further act to be looked at, yet no regress follows, since consciousness never needed looking at to know itself.
Reflection (n.) may be what brings the me into being: perhaps the essential change when a thought is reflected on is not lost naïveté but that an I appears.
Reflection (n.) poisons desire: once I watch myself helping, it is no longer Peter who draws me but my own helpful consciousness, which must be kept going.
Reflection (n.) is no mysterious infallible power: certain about the consciousness it looks at, it guarantees nothing about the objects it glimpses through it.
Reflection (n.) when pure disarms a feeling by handing it back its instant; impure, complicit reflection inflates the instant into a lifelong state.