Quotes About Understanding

Because I am committed to the truth of Scripture, I must try to understand what Scripture says, even if it transcends my own experience.

You do have to listen to the stories, for stories always mean something. The question that worries me is: WHAT exactly do they mean?

Who is to say that your friend's life is worth more than a Dragon's?' said One Eye, who was taking up most of the deck. 'It's worth more to me,' said Hiccup. 'Because I didn't know the Doomfang personally.

This is the problem with stories. Stories always mean something. The question is ... What exactly do they mean?

He looked as frightened as I was. I looked at him, and I saw myself.1,080 rount

Love never dies, what is within is more important than what is without, the best is not always the most obvious, and once you've loved truly, Thor, then you know the way.

I'm sorry we lied to you, Mother. But the ends justify the means… A fine outcome excuses a bad method… You'll understand when you're older.

Ibland är det bara nära vänner som kan förstå vad vi försöker få sagt. Nån som vi ofta har varit tillsammans med och som lyssnar noga på vad det är som vi försöker säga, och som försöker förstå (s. 220).

Woden preserve me from the terminally stupid.

Människohjärtan är inte gjorda av sten (s. 251).

Sometimes it is only a true friend who knows what we mean when we try to speak. Somebody who has spent a lot of time with and listens carefully to what we are trying to say, and tries to understand.

What more do you need? Poetry? Poetry is in the living. Little Sister, in the dreaming. Nobody in the world can teach you that.

Finding is for things that are lost. You don't need to find me, Mayor.

Suddenly he realized what was happening.

It was a belated realization to have, but it occurred to me that perhaps this was how grown-up conversations worked—not that your communication didn't falter, but that you both made good-faith attempts to rectify things after it had.

Aren't we all just looking for someone to talk about everything with? Someone worth the effort of telling our stories and opinions to, whose stories and opinions we actually want to hear?

I had the fleeting thought then that we are each of us pathetic in one way or another, and the trick is to marry a person whose patheticness you can tolerate.

Was this what marriage was, the slow process of getting to know another individual far better than was advisable? Sometimes [his] gestures and inflections were so mercilessly familiar that it was as if he were an extension of me, an element of my own personality over which I had little control.

I think my mother found her mother-in-law entertaining, and in a person who entertains us, there is much we forgive.

But I never thought of who he wasn't, I never had to explain or defend him to myself, I didn't even care what we talked about.

if he didn't fully understand where I came from, he understood who I was now -- he knew how well done I liked my steak, knew the color of my toothbrush, the expression I made when I realized I'd forgotten to roll up my car window before it rained.

Could it be that Noah was one of those rare guys who didn't essentially dislike or mock women, and who also didn't ignore our existence, and who also didn't see us primarily as objects of lust? That he was weirdly, disarmingly fine with us?

By the time we met up again, she'd be able to hand her reaction to me as a tidy package: a single square of lasagna in a sealed Tupperware container as opposed to a squalid kitchen with tomato sauce splattered on the counters. And I wouldn't have to be there while she got it in order.

Because my mother hadn't been an ostentatious or performative person, it had taken me a long time, until college really, to realize how smart and funny she was, and how generously compassionate.