Quotes About Surface

It was all so artificial. It was beautiful, but it did not belong to her. She was a tourist, an outsider, and she could only see the thin surface veneer of things; she couldn't get beneath it to the real heart of anything.

If you try to engineer all of the risk out of a trade, it will only surface somewhere else when it is least welcome.

Memphis both fueled Elvis's creative development and twisted his perspectives. Essentially, he and the town mirrored each other. They were both quiet and polite on the outside. Below the surface, they were ready to burst.

It's all on the surface. Advantage of wealth and power makes this available to them, but it's ersatz as the day is long.

The Davids were coming out in groups, clutching their teddy bears, their thin knobby legs pumping as they ran up the steps to the surface.

he came awake like someone struggling to swim to the surface of a lake of laudanum, where the strongest delights were the deepest and there was nothing above but cold and fear and duty.

From now on he was an aëronaut no more, unless by some miracle he escaped with his life and found enough money to buy another balloon. Now he had to move like an insect, along the surface of the earth.

I kept waiting for him to lay bare something more than this pointed unobjectionableness, but all that rose to the surface was more surface

When the shock wears off, you always hope there's understanding underneath. And with Rhiannon, it seems as if the understanding has already surfaced. Any vestige of doubt has been swept away.

In revolutions, as in storms at sea, solid worth goes to the bottom, and the waves bring lightweight stuff to the surface.

Chacun en leur temps, briques, couteaux, bouteilles et divers arguments rationnels avaient rebondi sur cette vaste surface en ne laissant que d'infimes empreintes entre des pores profonds et très espacés.

Depth must be hidden. Where? On the surface.

There are rocks deep enough in this earth that no matter what the rupture, they will never see the surface. There is, I think, a fear of love. There is a fear of love.

The water vapor accumulated in the upper atmosphere for so long that when the surface finally cooled enough for the rains to touch down, they poured in catastrophic torrents for thousands of years.

Her eyes are full of tears and I realise that she must be comforted, so I proceed to explain my own particular method of "carrying on". None of us could bear the war if we allowed ourselves to brood upon the wickedness of it and the misery it has entailed, so the only thing to do is not to allow oneself to think about it seriously, but just to skitter about on the surface of life like a water beetle.

Video looks like reality, it's more immediate, it has a verite surface to it. Film has this liquid kind of surface, feels like something made up.

In the contemporary world, we think of politeness as surface behavior, like frosting - it's sweet and attractive and finishes off the cake. But 19th century nobility and the enlightened thinkers and stoics before them viewed manners in a very different way. To them, manners are an outward expression of an inward struggle.

A groundswell of silence moved between us. Trouble on the surface and even deeper currents beneath.

Most people don't have facades," Natalie said drily. "Oh everyone thinks they do, but when you dig below the facade, there is only more facade.

Generosity of the dead. This states The big problem of poetry. Who could Speak for the buildings, for the future of the dead The dead who are implicated in all I can say? On this very beautiful surface Where I want to live

That which would not yield, nor could forget, Which, when it least appear'd to melt, Intensely thought, intensely felt: The deepest ice which ever froze Can only o'er the surface close; The living stream lies quick below, And flows--and cannot cease to flow.

We all lie. We all guard secrets—sometimes terrible ones—a side to us so dark, so shameful, that we quickly avert our own eyes from the shadow we might glimpse in the mirror. Instead we lock our dark halves deep in the basement of our souls. And on the surface of our lives, we work industriously to shape the public story of our selves . . .

There was a low growling sound and the Munstermobile came gliding up out of the parking garage, dripping water from its gleaming surface like some lantern-eyed leviathan rising from the depths. There were still a few dents and dings in it, but the broken glass had all been replaced, and the engine sounded fine. Okay, I'm not like a car fanatic or anything - but the guitar riff from Bad to the Bone started playing in my head.

Driving out of the woods I felt a new and curious calm but doubted that it would last: I had changed my life so often that I finally decided there'd never been anything to change—I could make all the moves I wished to on the surface as if I were playing Chinese checkers but these moves were suspended on a thin layer that failed to stir anything below.