Quotes About Misunderstanding

Lyndon cannot, he insists, for the life of him understand why new generations such as your own see everything of importance in terms of love, David. As if it explained feelings lasting years, that word.

If we are honest, most of us have to admit that prayer is often more of an obligation than something arising spontaneously from desire . . . the core of the misunderstanding lies in thinking of prayer as something that we do. Understood more correctly, prayer is what God does in us. Our part has much more to do with consent than initiative.

That fist he was raising at me would wham into the cupboard door, hurting only himself. I saw it all happening, then it really did happen. But I didn't understand the whore thing. Why was he confusing the drinking with the other? Then I got it. Obvious. It was all mixed up for him, all the same thing: the drinking, the other, anything that could make a woman free.

Well, it's about you and Mom. Chigger and I were talking-and well, I mean-you are kidnapping us, aren't you, Dad?

This is the ultimate cruelty, isn't it? That I can talk and talk and to anyone listening, it's only air--too rich a diet to be swallowed by a mundane world.

Your strange!" she gushed. (She meant "You're," but Peter felt absolutely certain that she was one of those people who spell it "Your.")

but Mama was so mad at the insurance company that even though he used words like "flaming assholes" she didn't realize till later that he was cussing: she said she thought he was quoting the Psalms.

You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong.

Sometimes when you hit send, you can imagine the message going straight into the person's heart. But other times, like this time, it feels like the words are merely falling into a well.

exacerbate , v . I believe your exact words were: You're getting too emotional.

The world is full of people who think different is synonymous with wrong.

No funny stuff in here tonight, you understand?" Dash said, "I assure you I could not contemplate any of your so-called funny stuff seeing as how I have no idea why I'm even here." Mark scoffed. "You bookish little pervert." "Thank you, sir!" Dash said brightly.

me: just don't ask about his forty-three ex-boyfriends, okay? or ask him about why he's carrying around an axe. mom:... me: i'm kidding about the axe part.

Nights when I need to sleep and you can't. Days when I want to talk and you won't. Hours when every noise you make interferes with my silence. Weeks when there is a buzzing in the air, and we both pretend we don't hear it.

This is the problem with having a barrier between you and everyone else —you see it, but they don't. They talk to you, but you can't talk back to them.

i am constantly telling him that i'm not sure the laws of sex and the city apply when there's no sex and there's no city, but then he looks at me like i'm throwing spiked darts at the heart-shaped helium balloons that populate his mind, so i let it go

All the words we use are stripped bare, so that no one ever knows what anyone else is saying, so that all kindness is cruelty, all selfishness generous, all care callous.

Be careful what you're doing, because no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head.

You are leaving me messages, but I haven't gotten the message yet.

If she'd been bleeding in the street, you would've run to get help. It's the same thing! Typical, I could hear you saying back. The whole point is that I wasn't bleeding in the street . I wasn't dying of cancer. You couldn't take an X-ray and see what was wrngsithme. You couldn't make such an easy diagnosis. You had to guess. And everybody guessed wrong. But the things is, I hadn't even made the guess. I trusted that you knew what you were doing. You were very convincing. And I destroyed you.

epithet, n. I think the worst you ever called me was a cunt rag. You mean I'm a tampon? I asked. I'm a tampon for not letting you drive? I laughed. You didn't. At least, not until you sobered up.

This is the problem with having a barrier between you and everyone else--you see it, but they don't. They talk to you, but you can't talk back to them.

Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong.

I truly don't understand any of this,' I confessed. She stayed standing, facing me. 'I wish I could help you there,' she told me. 'But I can't.