Quotes About Interaction

Betsy's arm shot out, and my cheek suddenly stung. "What the hell?" I said, trying to figure out what had happened. A cherry-red jellybean was in my lap. I held it up. "Every time you tense up, every time you turn that handsome face into an undertaker's mask, I am going to hit you with a jellybean," Betsy explained, as if the whole thing were quite reasonable.

He was one of those guys who'd pronounce I'm a hugger as he came at you, neglecting to ask if the feeling was mutual.

I realized what a decadence it was, to refuse to answer a question. No thanks, don't want to talk about that and the worst you get is someone thinks you're rude.

She was the kind of person who'd read street signs aloud rather than suffer silence.

He was verbally poking a bruise.

twice-removed somethings and whom I only mildly terrorized.

I carry on an inner monologue, but the words often don't reach my lips. She looks nice today, I'd think, but somehow it wouldn't occur to me to say it out loud.

We were the two unlikeliest people to charm information out of someone. Stunted human beings who got awkward every time we tried to express ourselves.

Either way felt weird. Either way would lead to jokes. Trey was the kind of guy that would look for something just slightly but truly wrong about you that you didn't even notice and point it out to the whole room.

As a child, I was constantly being sent on playdates with other kids—the shrinks insisted I interact with cohorts. That's what my meeting with Lyle was like: those first loose, horrible ten minutes, when the grown-ups have left, and neither kid knows what the other one wants, so you stand there, near the TV they've told you to keep off, fiddling with the antenna.

O rosto que você apresenta ao mundo diz ao mundo como tratar você (...).

It was certainly easy making conversation with this woman. You didn't even have to know the native tongue.

Yes. He argued that we are the gods, that we create our own destiny. That what we are determines what will become of us. In a peasantlike vernacular, we all paint ourselves into corners from which there is no escape simply by being ourselves and interacting with other selves.

Maybe propinquity was counterproductive. *

But she noticed that some of the people who had spoken to her before made a point of having something else to do with their eyes when she passed, although she could almost feel them staring at her back as she moved on.

Small places live on small talk, but sometimes the happenings can be too lean for everybody to get enough fat out of it to chew over.

Because his [Damien Hirst] art is idea art - art drawn on the back of cigarette packets and beer mats, roughed out in airport departure lounges and the back of the taxis, usually delegated to and carried by others - this leaves Damien a lot of time for what might loosely be called socializing. Hanging around.

I glance at the rearview mirror, and see Elaine flashing me a thumbs-up.

We affect one another quite enough merely by existing. Whenever the stars cross, or is it comets? fragments pass briefly from one orbit to another. On rare occasions there is total collision, but most often the two simply continue without incident, neither losing more than a particle to the other, in passing.

He now new a number of people but none well. It was easier to have sex with a man than to acquire a friend.

Thus the thought, for example, which we expressed in the Pythagorean theorem is timelessly true, true independently of whether anyone takes it to be true. It needs no bearer. It is not true for the first time when it is discovered, but is like a planet which, already before anyone has seen it, has been in interaction with other planets.

What are we doing to each other? Because I know that I am doing to him exactly what he is doing to me. We are sometimes so happy, and never in our lives have we known more unhappiness.

every monologue sooner or later becomes a discussion.

She always harboured my criticism: it was only praise that slid from her like the snow.