Quotes About Perspective

But Belle, the servants…they tell me you're in there all day. Don't you think a bit of balance is needed? An escape can become escapism before we even know it. Books are wonderful things, but you can't live in someone else's story. You have to live your own story." Belle looked up at him with deep pain in her eyes. What she said next broke his heart for the second time that morning. "But what if you don't like your story? What then?

History is a Rorschach test, people. What you see when you look at it tells you as much about yourself as it does about the past.

But you can't live your life worried about dying all the time. If you do, you're dead already.

You can't tell a seventeen-year-old anything. They think they're immortal. They don't listen. Seventeen-year-olds have to see it for themselves.

Art is the most effective form of communication.

Think like a middle-aged man with OCD, a dead wife, and a teenage daughter. Think like a woman with three teenage sons who once ran a golf cart into the side of their granddad's house." "Cameron and Sean shouldn't have let me drive," Adam said in his own defense. "I was seven." "You shouldn't have ASKED to drive. You were seven.

I saw myself exactly as he saw me. And that made me angry.

I brushed some imaginary lint from my shirt, or touched my cleavage to catch his eye, depending on your perspective.

Why can't he be the prostitute, and I the john?

Boys don't gossip." "Pah! You don't know us as well as you think." This was a disturbing prospect.

Those boys just want to get in your pants," he said. "You know that, right?" [...] "That's not true," Tiffany said. Well, of course it was true. But if Tiffany didn't know this, now was not the time to clue her in. "How do you know we weren't trying to get in their pants?" I asked.

I knew why I was claustrophobic, all right. But knowing why didn't make it go away. I wondered what it would be like to see the dark blue sky above us not as heavy drapes of cloth, the top of a circus tent, but as an infinite expanse. As everybody else saw it.

And I was bitter. Bitterness and I were old friends by now, but at the moment bitterness was trying to go down my bra in public.

The world is full of shitheads, Rhea. Don't listen to them—listen to me. And I know that Lou is one of those shitheads. But I listen.

Sometimes I imagine myself looking back on right now and I think like where will I be standing when I look back Will right now look like the beginning of a great life or... or what

But knowing everything is too much like knowing nothing; without a story, it's all just information.

reach isn't describable in terms of cause and effect anymore: it's simultaneous.

Nineteen eighty is almost here, thank God. the hippies are getting old, they blew their brains on acid and now they're begging on street corners all over San Francisco. Their hair is tangled and their bare feet are thick and gray as shoes. We're sick of them.

One horror of motherhood lies in the moments when she can see both the exquisiteness of her child and his utter inconsequence to others.

A new remote and unfamiliar place can make the prior remote and unfamiliar place seem like home.

If we human beings are information processing machines, reading X's & O's and translating that information into what people oh so breathlessly call "experience", & if I had not only the information but the artistry to shape that information using the computer inside my brain, then, technically speaking, was I not having all the same experiences those other people were having?

Now there are permanent gray smudges in Scotty's vision. He says he likes them--actually, what he says is: "I consider them a visual enhancement." We think they remind him of his mom.

Hindsight creates the illusion that your life has led you inevitably to the present moment.

see how everything now is precious, how someday I'll know I was lucky to be here.