Quotes About Understanding

It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think?

It does all swing around strangely sometimes, doesn't it?" he said. I was silent, not knowing what to say. "I mean only—" rubbing his eye—"I only understand it, as I get older. How funny time is. How many tricks and surprises." The word trick was all I heard, or understood.

She wanted to start with names of things, things she could point to. Like Miss Sullivan with Helen Keller. She'd touch Weenie's nose, and say: 'Nose! That's your nose! You've got a nose!' Then she'd touch her own nose. Then his again. Back and forth." "She must not have had much to do.

I've come to realize that the only truths that matter to me are the ones I don't, and can't, understand. What's mysterious, ambiguous, inexplicable. What doesn't fit into a story, what doesn't have a story. Glint of brightness on a barely-there chain. Patch of sunlight on a yellow wall. The loneliness that separates every living creature from every other

It is is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially." ? Donna Tartt, The Secret History

At this question, I felt a sharp rush of despair - for as bad as I felt there was nothing he could do for me, and from his face, I realized he knew that, too.

Months after I got to know the five of them, I found to my surprise that at the start they'd been nearly as bewildered by me as I by them.

It was one of the reasons I loved him: for that flattering light in which he saw me, for the person I was when I was with him, for what it was he allowed me to be.

What? said Charles, interrupting him. What did you say? You said Julian's gone? I must compliment you, young man, on your grasp of the English language.

affectionate exasperated breath I knew

Manche Dinge sind so schrecklich, dass man sie nicht sogleich begreifen kann.

Nos miramos durante un largo y extraño momento que nunca he olvidado, como dos animales que se encuentran al atardecer, y de sus ojos pareció brotar una clara chispa de simpatía; vi la criatura que era en realidad y creo que él también me vio. Por un instante estuvimos conectados como dos motores del mismo circuito.

one prisoner looking at another

What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.

It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think? Remember the Erinyes?

It's a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us.

No person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us.

I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I'd stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tounge, the thing I'd never said, even thouhg it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street-which was, of course, I love you.

A guesstimate?" prompted the man Enrique. "About your dad?" "Ballpark will do," the Korean lady said.

It does not to do be frightened of things about which you know nothing,' he said. 'You are like children. Afraid of the dark.

MIGHT HAVE LIKED Xandra in other circumstances—which, I guess, is sort of like saying I might have liked the kid who beat me up if he hadn't beat me up.

I'd given up trying to explain Hobie to Boris: the house, the workshop, his thoughtful way of listening (...) but more than anything a sort of pleasing atmosphere of mind: foggy, autumnal, a mild and welcoming micro-climate that made me feel safe and comfortable in his company.

If one is to read Dante, and understand him, one must become a Christian if only for a few hours.

Unfortunately, the feelings arrive before you're old enough to handle them.