Quotes About Camouflage

He put his finger to his lips. I'm incognito. Call me Fred.

Mostly, he looked like a big piece of old brown carpet that had been left out in the rain.

In order not to bother or be bothered by ghosts, you just act like you're one of them. That's what I do.

First rule to be a photographer, you have to be invisible.

But a myth, to speak plainly, to me is like a menu in a fancy French restaurant: glamorous, complicated camouflage for a fact you wouldn't otherwise swallow, like maybe lima beans.

The chameleon's dish: I eat the air, promisecrammed; you cannot feed capons so.

Other species don't suffer like people,' he said. 'Lizards don't start to drink earlier and earlier in the day. Hartebeests don't become dirty old hartebeests. Orang-outangs don't dread redundancy. Llamas don't go through the change of life. Elderly chameleons don't fear old age and tell their bored infants: "Natural camouflage isn't what it was when I was a lad.

Are you one of the dwellers in the wood? Neither by land nor by sea shall they find us. But, when the time comes, we shall find them.

WAIT! You may be wondering why the red suit. Well, that's so bad guys don't see me bleed.

The ego camouflages itself like a fox born and raised in a hen house. Its only worry is that you fail to notice its presence every so often and start acting without fear

The more attention you seek the more invisibility you reap

Lord Templeton-Vane bared his teeth in what a stupid person might have mistaken for a smile.

ghillie suit. It affords me perfect camouflage in the forest." "I think I saw something moving within it," Tiberius told him. "It does have a tendency to attract fleas,

How much intelligence does it take to sneak up on a leaf?

where she imagines she's inconspicuous. This is the one benefit of being a migrant, of having effected this disguise so completely: they are nearly invisible. No one looks at them, and in fact, people take pains not to look at them.

I believed that it might be pulling these different impressions of itself from my mind and projecting them back at me, as a form of camouflage. To thwart the biologist in me, to frustrate the logic left in me.

Become a type, no one saw you. Paranoid thought: What better disguise? But disguise for what?

It might be inexplicable. It might be beyond the limits of my senses to capture—or my science or my intellect—but I still believed I was in the presence of some kind of living creature, one that practiced mimicry using my own thoughts. For even then, I believed that it might be pulling these different impressions of itself from my mind and projecting them back at me, as a form of camouflage.

se hacía la dormida.

His eyes were dark, dangerous, and not at all cold. He burned with an internal inferno she wanted to touch. She stared into the gaze of a tiger and knew, even as she watched the cat retreat into the camouflage of a gentleman: The Duke of Wakefield was the Ghost of St. Giles.

so by degrees I became invisible in that spotted sick-room light and nobody found me there.

I love being a pavement artist; seriously, I do. It's like when guys who would normally hate being freakishly tall discover basketball, or when girls with abnormally long fingers sit down at a piano. Blending in, going unseen, being a shadow in the sun is what I'm good at. Seeing the shadows, it turns out, is not my natural gift.

If you can be still enough and common enough, then it's really easy to be invisible.

And that's how the Peacock saved the Chameleon