Quotes About Perspective

M: ... but everytime I start in everytime I everytime you see I would have to tell the whole story all over again or else lie so I lie I just lie who are they who are the storytellers who can put an end to stories

My mother always closes her bedroom drapes tight before going to bed at night. I open mine as wide as possible. I like to see everything, I say. What's there to see? Moon. Air. Sunrise. All that light on your face in the morning. Wakes you up. I like to wake up.

Up against another human being one's own procedures take on definition.

Up against another human being one's own procedures take on definition.

The poached egg on your plate at breakfast is not dirt. The poached egg on page 202 of the Greek lexicon in the library of the British Museum is dirt.

On the Rules of Perspective A bad trick. Mistake. Dishonesty. These are the views of Braque. Why? Braque rejected perspective. Why? Someone who spends his life drawing profiles will end up believing that man has one eye, Braque felt. Braque wanted to take full possession of objects. He said as much in published interviews. Watching the small shiny planes of the landscape recede out of his grasp filled Braque with loss so he smashed them. Nature morte, said Braque.

A stranger is someone who sits very still at the kitchen table, looks down at his knuckles, thinks some day we will laugh about this, doesn't believe it.

How does distance look?' is a simple direct question. It extends from a spaceless within to the edge of what can be loved. It depends on light.

How does distance look?" is a simple direct question. It extends from a spaceless within to the edge of what can be loved.

Perhaps Jonas is learning that bread without butter is no better for the spirit than all butter and no bread. Jonas has always been so serious. He hasn't realized that rest and fun and laughter are as important as work," she [Mother] looked down at her work-roughened hands, "though they don't always come as often as we wish.

Like too many of us, I mistook a busy life for a rich one.

Feelings aren't right or wrong. They just are.

Writing is mostly a case of mood management. The emotion you have is not absolute, it is temporary. It may be useful, but it is not the truth. It is not you.

Just the way all mothers are crazy to their daughters, all mothers are wrong.

There were girls at school whose families grew to a robust five or six. There were girls with seven or eight-which was thought a little enthusiastic - and then there were the pathetic ones like me, who had parents that were just helpless to it, and bred as naturally as they might shit.

They are surprisingly tall--eight-year-olds. They are surprisingly like real people. Of course your own babies are always real to you, they are all there from the word go, but even strangers' children look like proper people by the aged of eight...

I have always felt that the action most worth watching is not at the center of things but where edges meet. I like shorelines, weather fronts, international borders. There are interesting frictions and incongruities in these places, and often, if you stand at the point of tangency, you can see both sides better than if you were in the middle of either one.

In my view, nineteen pounds of old books are at least nineteen times as delicious as one pound of fresh caviar.

If you can't see that your own culture has its own set of interests, emotions, and biases, how can you expect to deal successfully with someone else's culture?

Our view of reality is only a view, not reality itself.

The Hmong have a phrase, hais cuaj txub kaum txub, which means "to speak of all kinds of things." It is often used at the beginning of an oral narrative as a way of reminding the listeners that the world is full of things that may not seem to be connected but actually are; that no event occurs in isolation; that you can miss a lot by sticking to the point; and that the storyteller is likely to be rather long-winded.

We all live with the objective of being happy; our lives are all different and yet the same.

As long as this exists, this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. ROMANS 8:18