Quotes About Telling

Audun followed the trail like a hound would a rabbit, with his nose quivering and all his attention focused on that one telling odor.

perfection. The lie is the story that warps reality in this country, which means that resisting it involves telling in each moment a truer story, one that casts the lie into relief, showing it for what it is. And

We also know how important telling is from our desire in most conversations to get to the point. When we are listening to someone and don't see where it is going, we ask, "So what is your point?" We expect conversations to get to a conclusion, which is reached by telling something, not by asking more open-ended questions.

Don't we all know how to ask questions? Of course we think we know how to ask, but we fail to notice how often even our questions are just another form of telling—rhetorical or just testing whether what we think is right. We are biased toward telling instead of asking because we live in a pragmatic, problem-solving culture in which knowing things and telling others what we know is valued.

Gratuitous telling betrays three kinds of arrogance: (1) that you think you know more than the person you're telling, (2) that your knowledge is the correct knowledge, and (3) that you have the right to structure other people's experience for them.

There's no point just telling the French that you can cook, the proof is in the pudding; if you bake them something delicious then you'll win them over.

It's great to try another format and be part of telling a story over ten episodes.

I've blogged since 2001 and was first attracted to the medium by its wild-west aesthetic, if simply telling the truth that corporate media wasn't telling could be so rebellious as to be defined as 'wild west.'

I'm grateful to HBO for telling my story, and I'd like to thank everyone for their ongoing support.

Advent is not a time to declare, but to listen, to listen to whatever God may want to tell us through the singing of the stars, the quickening of a baby, the gallantry of a dying man.

It was strange, telling the story from the beginning instead of catching someone up on only the latest awful chapter.

Men in prayer give greater license to their unlawful desires than if they were telling jocular tales among their equals.

Stories come alive in the telling. (…)They lay dormant, hoping for the chance to emerge. Once someone started to read them, they could begin to change. They could take root in the imagination and transform the reader. Stories wanted to be read.

What I am telling you, before you begin my story, is this -- two things: I crave truth. And I lie.

That had been the worst part of childhood: people telling you how lucky you were to live in a carefree time with no responsibilities

My mom choreographed the top Olympians; she's really the queen of ice in her world, so I kind of get my directorial bug from her because she's really good at telling people what to do!

It all comes down to what is best for those particular genres, and if you believe in the stories that you're telling and the characters that you like that you want to tell those stories with, you can pretty much apply it to any genre.

If the truth is worth telling, it is worth making a fool of yourself to tell.

Talking about my addiction to alcohol is therapeutic. Most definitely telling everyone about it is as well.

It was a story that still hurt in the telling, which perhaps made it a worthwhile gift, after all.

My reading had my mind like steam under pressure. Some way, I had to start telling the white man about himself to his face. I decided to do this by putting my name down to debate.

But if it's a story, even in my head, I must be telling it to someone. You don't tell a story only to yourself. There's always someone else. Even when there is no one. A story is like a letter. Dear You, I'll say. Just you, without a name. Attaching a name attaches you to the world of fact, which is riskier, more hazardous: who knows what the chances are out there, of survival, yours? I will say you, you, like an old love song.

Christmas is telling time-wondering time. Wonder enough about it, and you'll know, and you'll tell about it.

I thought Mr. Millward never would cease telling us that he was no tea-drinker, and that it was highly injurious to keep loading the stomach with slops to the exclusion of more wholesome sustenance, and so give himself time to finish his fourth cup.