Quotes About Mirrors

Getting rid of the mirrors—what a joke that was. Just hiding the truth. All those smashed mirrors in the town dump. All that bad luck circling back to her.

The country of the blind has ordered mirrors Its one-eyed king's vision is now prime for time

Dortmunder lifted his gaze from his reproachful knees, and contemplated, without love, the clothing Andy Kelp had forced him into. He said, "Who wears this stuff?" "Americans," Kelp told him. "Don't they have mirrors in America?

the fish's eye looked as detached as the mirrors in a periscope or as a saint in a procession.

La memoria es frágil y eso es una bendición, el tiempo va perdiendo todo en sus espejos.

Beauty: You called me beautiful last night. Beast: You do not believe me then? Beauty: Well - no. Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise. Beast: You will find no mirrors here, for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?

Vishnu Vishnu Vishnu regarded regarded regarded Brahma Brahma Brahma... They sat in the Hall of Mirrors.

In the mirrors of the many judgments, my hands are the color of blood. I am part of the evil that exists in the world and in Shadow. I sometimes fancy myself an evil that exists to oppose other evils.

You look very handsome, Papa, I say. The twinkle is back in his eyes. Smoke and mirrors, he says with a wink. Smoke and mirrors.

In each mirror, each moment A new face reveals His beauty.

If art reflects life, it does so with special mirrors.

A]fter all, the position of a reader in a book is very like that occupied by angels in the world, when angels still had any credibility. Yours is, like theirs, a hovering, gravely attentive presence, observing everything, from whom nothing is concealed, for angels are very bright mirrors. Hearts and minds are as open as the landscape to their view, as to yours; like them you are in the fabled world invisible.

I wait on the origin of night's sounds waking. I know that here only the blind man sings, even in rain The notes of drenched violins rise like warped mirrors' and the last clouds part slowly, like a cracked wheel.

Of course great hotels have always been social ideas, flawless mirrors to the particular societies they service.

What artist could recreate Sidonie's sensuous beauty? No mere dauber could capture the feminine musk on the air. Or depict the soft, uneven pattern of her breathing. Her skin was flushed. A pulse fluttered in the hollow of her throat. Her lips were full and dark, although he'd hardly kissed her. Over and over in the mirrors, she emerged from the loosened gown like a water lily from a lake. He loomed over her like a nightmare.

Man shouldn't be able to see his own face – there's nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.

Again I see you, But me I don't see!, The magical mirror in which I saw myself has been broken, And only a piece of me I see in each fatal fragment - Only a piece of you and me!...

espejos fantásticos que se deforman en reflexiones

I like the idea that we build up these walls or rules or laws to maintain our reality, and when they fall away, you're left with a whole bunch of illusions. Smoke and mirrors.

Sleeping and waking, the notion of being lost, of having wandered out of the right life, kept turning up in different guises. She imagined mirrors in which she could not find herself.

I no longer ask for all the loneliness of love or the tranquility of love or for the mirrors.

There are shadows for the shadows of things, as a reflection seen in a mirror of a mirror. We know there are circles within circles and dimensions beyond dimension. Reality is itself a shadow, only an appearance accepted by those whose eyes shun what might lie beyond.

In one way, what I saw in those mirrors was the self trapped inside the self, forever. But in another way, the self in the mirror was opening out, in an infinite unfurling. I am the one whose drive is being thwarted. And I am the one who is thwarting it.

had been Benna's favourite place in Westport. He'd dragged her there twice a week while they were in the city. A shrine of mirrors and cut glass, polished wood and glittering marble. A temple to the god of male grooming. The high priest—a small, lean barber in a heavily embroidered apron—stood sharply upright in the centre of the floor, chin pointed to the ceiling, as though he'd been expecting them that very moment to enter.