Quotes About Observation

Cubism is like standing at a certain point on a mountain and looking around. If you go higher, things will look different; if you go lower, again they will look different. It is a point of view.

In a portrait, you have room to have a point of view. The image may not be literally what's going on, but it's representative.

But if two's company, three's a crowd - and that demands the omniscient point of view.

I like a view but I like to sit with my back turned to it.

The materialistic point of view in psychology can claim, at best, only the value of an heuristic hypothesis.

All objects lose by too familiar a view.

The beauty of cricket is that there are so many different opinions as to the best way to do something and at times it is easier to see something when you're not emotionally involved in the game and not responsible for the decision. You can go and have a cup of tea and look at it from a different point of view.

Just being with dogs, I learned their ways and began to appreciate things from their point of view.

The view outside was much more important than the exhibits.

If I realize that actually there's quantum mechanics happening around us all the time in some macroscopic, interconnected way, then that doesn't change my perception of it, that doesn't change my interaction with it; it just changes how I view my interaction.

I think I've always had that bird's-eye view of myself. I think it's an actor trait... Sometimes it's best just to get lost out there, but other times you have to be aware of where the light's hitting you.

Derek.' There was an odd smile on her face. 'Your cockney is showing.

Knowing of your penchant for trouble, Miss Bowman, I have concluded that it is safer to keep you in my sight, and within arm's reach if possible.

Do you happen to have a pocket mirror? "I'm afraid not. Why?" "I've made you late, which means by now Lady Berwick has sprouted serpents from her head, and I can't look at her directly.

Everyone's looking," she whispered, letting him lead her to the center of the waltzing couples, several of which moved to allow them plenty of room. "Everyone's been looking at you all night," he said wryly. "Especially me.

I'm sorry to say, Marcus, that each of your recent choice of companions—the last four or five, at least—displayed all the intelligence of a turnip.

Keeping his movements relaxed, Devon went to the Arabian's stall. Asad turned his head sideways to view him, his teacup muzzle tightening in a sign of unease. "No need for concern," Devon murmured. "Although one can't blame you for wrinkling your nose at a Ravenel's approach.

Simon had never forgotten the first moment that he had seen her standing outside the panorama, digging through her purse with a little pucker on her forehead. The sun had picked out streaks of gold and champagne in her light brown hair and made her skin glow. There had been something so delicious... so touchable... about her, the velvety skin and shining blue eyes, and the slight frown that he had longed to soothe away.

One glance was all it took to refute Gabriel's earlier speculation that Trenear had married her for financial gain. Or at least, she couldn't have been the only reason. She was a lovely woman, delicately feline, with tip-tilted brown eyes. The way her ruddy curls tried to spring free of their pins reminded him of his mother and older sister.

To Kathleen's surprise, West didn't leave. He returned to the house and went to his room. At least, she thought darkly, he'd made no further attempt to mount a horse while he was drunk, which she supposed put him above her late husband in terms of intelligence.

I could always feel a cactus resting softly on my neck when he looked my way.

Perhaps because the camera reserved judgment.

She'd gone into the glass booth of the station to pay and the young man behind the counter was reading Anna Karenina and he turned the book over on the counter regretfully. She saw the big Russian saga drain out of his eyes as he took her in...she had watched as the gas attendant dragged himself from a cold night in Russia, full of passion and big fireplaces and lust. Back into the cold, lonely night of St. John's to take Helen's debit card, and she had felt motherly.

if there is a conventional explanation for an observation, it is almost always the right one. Radical departures should be accepted only when they explain phenomena that older ideas fail to accommodate. In