Quotes About Misunderstanding

Some people don't seem to be able to distinguish between humour and what you really feel. They forget that there's a difference between what's real and what's a fantasy or joke.

We've always had people who don't understand our humour.

I asked him if he ever hung out with black guys in high school and he said, 'Well, no. They always had these angry looks on their faces. Who wouldn't look ticked off having to deal with nitwits like him?

The word fell between them like an ax.

I'm just tired of people judging me because I fit into a certain mold.

She is an incredibly intelligent idiot

When we got home, she'd trail off to her room like an unfinished sentence, and I would sit outside with my face pressed against her door and replay the day in my head, searching for clues to what I'd done to displease her.

I remember at one point starting a goofy story about a childhood field trip here, and I saw her eyes go blank, and I got secretly furious, spent ten minutes just winding myself up – because at this point of our marriage, I was so used to being angry with her, it felt almost enjoyable, like gnawing on a cuticle: You know you should stop, that it doesn't really feel as good as you think, but you can't quit grinding away.

Amy. Please. He has that look, like I am being unreasonable, like he is so sure I am being unreasonable that I wonder if I am.

I should add, in Amy's defense, that she'd asked me twice if I wanted to talk, if I was sure I wanted to do this. I sometimes leave out details like that. It's more convenient for me. In truth, I wanted her to read my mind so I didn't have to stoop to the womanly art of articulation. I was sometimes as guilty of playing the figure-me-out game as Amy was. I've left that bit of information out, too.

I'm just tired of people judging me because I fit into a certain mold.

I remember always being baffled by other children. I would be at a birthday party and watch the other kids giggling and making faces, and I would try to do that too, but I wouldn't understand why.

I just want you to be happy, Amy. How many times did he say that and I took it to mean: I just want you to be happy, Amy, because that's less work for me.

I hated Nick for being surprised when I became me. I hated him for not knowing it had to end, for truly believing he had married this creature, this figment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men, semen-fingered and self-satisfied. He truly seemed astonished when I asked him to listen to me.

That was the worst word Diane could have said. As soon as she said it, Patty knew she'd been dreading just exactly that. That wedge of possibility—misunderstanding—that could turn this into something. A pat on the head might be a caress of the back might be a kiss on the lips might be the roof caving in.

He has that look, like I am being unreasonable

If a man speaks in the heart of a forest and no woman is there to hear him, is he still wrong?

The thing about a cavity search is this: it has nothing to do with the dentist.

I'm starving. When we check into our hotel, let's ask the desk clerk where we can find one of those vast pizzas. What are you talking about? Your guidebook says Florence is a city of vast pizzas. Look it up yourself. Those are vast piazzas , not pizzas! It means public squares! Dan's face fell. Oh. Amy sighed. I honestly thought the clue hunt took the dweeb out of you. No such luck.

We're all proud of you, Donnie. Your mother and me, Katie—" "Right," I snorted. "She said I'm dumber than her bladder-challenged dog.

She was salted in the ladies' room?

Much of our life is spent wishing others understood us better than they do.

And they think you saints are all rubes! What's a rube? A holy man.

mantel and a Rolls in the garage, but your old man still wouldn't know a clitoris from a junk bond if you had the guts to show him your twat in the first place.