Quotes About Reflection

It is even more amusing to remember that an orange is really sort of blue in the model accepted in optical physics. That is, the fruit has absorbed blue — blue is conducted through its skin. We see orange precisely because there is no orange in the fruit — because orange is being reflected off the skin, to our eyes. The substance or isness of the fruit contains the blue we do not see; our brains contain the orange we do see.

The whole speed scene is pretty sad. Some go through a period where they get stuck in the same fantasies over and over again. The trip can take several years, but there are a lot of people who have been through it and finally come out the other side. It doesn't seem to have the lifelong addictive properties of heroin.

Do we think at all — about these allegations, or about anything else — or do we just respond mechanically with conditioned prejudices, as the Behaviorists assure us? If we laugh at the gross bigotries of the 13th Century, what do we think about the data that seems flatly impossible to us?

To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of you. Let me then try not to think that I am not going to think of you.

Colin Wilson argues that when we say, Life is boring and meaningless, it means that we are boring and meaningless. Can there be any truth in this?

CULTIVATING NOT-KNOWING Though not-knowing is natural to us and not all that unfamiliar—as when we wordlessly resonate and interact with the radiant presence emanating through a baby's eyes—the capacity for it gets easily pushed into the background by our conditioned knowing.

What if you could be young again and were able to undo the things that were done that made you into the person you would later become. But then who would you be.

She walked a ways down the concourse, and looked back and waved and then turned a corner and was out of sight. I still stood for a moment, looking at the last place I had seen her, being careful not to be routine, while I became the other guy again, the one I was without her.

When you thought about it, silence was rarely silent. Silence was the small noises you heard when the larger noises disappeared.

Get far enough away and it looks kinda pretty, don't it?" she said. "You only get order from a distance. Close up is always messy." "Yeah," I said, "but your own life is always close up. You only see other people's lives at long range.

Perhaps you will want time to digest what we've discussed," she

Quirk was still staring out the window. "I'm trying to keep hold of this thing," he said. "The guy isn't going to stop and

Robert B. Parker

Anger doesn't have to be expressed. It is enough to know that you're angry, and know why, and not lie to yourself about it.

I liked the rain. It was interesting to look at, and I enjoyed the feeling of shelter on a rainy day. When

I ate in the silence and drank my coffee and looked occasionally at Susan's picture on my desk. Let us be true to one another, dear.

Mostly I thought about Susan with her clothes off. This would solve nearly any problem I had

She laughed in the darkness. "Of course it is," she said. "That's the story of your life. What doesn't matter. It's how you look when you do it.

It's awful to be alone, Jesse." "If you can't be alone," Jesse said

I sat and looked up at the blue sky and across at the blank windows for a long time. A woman I'd once cared about had worked in anadvertising agency over there. Sometimes, when the sun came at them from a different angle, I could see through the windows across the street and watch her moving about her office. Agency was gone now. Maybe the whole building was gone, replaced by a new one. It was hard to remember.

The sedan went too and I stood alone in the woods and watched my ear burn.

When I'm stuck," Healy said, "I go over it." "All of it," Jesse said. "Start at page one of my notebook and go page by page all the way through.

It was 10:45. Across the continent Susan would be putting on her makeup now, and spraying some perfume on herself and making sure her hair was perfect. I looked at my reflection in the window. My hair wasn't perfect. Neither was I.

off with Utley." We were all quiet then, Susan and I