Quotes About Observation

and the pea was put in the museum, where it can still be seen, if no one has stolen it.

I live in the same world as you do. I just see things that are outside the realm of understanding.

Experience cannot beat logic, and interpretations of observational evidence which are not in line with the laws of logical reasoning are no refutation of these but the sign of a muddled mind (or would one accept someone's observational report that he had seen a bird that was red and non-red all over at the same time as a refutation of the law of contradiction rather than the pronouncement of an idiot?).

America was waking up, as Germany once did, to the awareness that one-third of our people will kill one-third of our people while one-third of our people watches.

The humpback never sees the hump on his own back.

Introductions were made. Hands were shaken. Rear ends were seated. As was his custom in such situations, Win remained silent. His eyes slid from one side of the room to the other, taking in everything. He liked to study people for a while before speaking to them, especially in their home environment.

She circled in front of the woman, trying not to be too obvious, ducking behind taller people, and when she was in the right place, Edna spun around. The possible-Katie was walking toward her. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and Edna knew.

He moved from shrub to shrub. Some of the shrubs were familiar from his last sojourn into these parts. He said hello to them, chatted, offered up his best cocktail-party banter. One shrub gave him a stock tip. Myron ignored it. He circled closer to the Coldren house, slowly, still careful not to be seen. He had no idea what he was going to do, but when he got close enough to see a light on in the den, an idea came to him. A

I refuse to offer hints.' Myron ran episodes through his mind. On the court the umpire announced, 'Time.' The ninety-second commercial break was over. The players rose. Myron couldn't swear to it, but he thought he saw Henry blink.

Ash had the gun in his gloved hand. The ski mask was in place. Ash had learned over the years that ski masks don't offer enough peripheral vision, so he'd already made the eye holes a little bigger. He stayed in his squat and waited. To his left, he could see Dee Dee had moved closer to the periphery. He frowned. She should know better and stay back. But that was Dee Dee.

So that was what Edna had been doing. Strolling down the street. Ignoring, as she often did, the sights and sounds. Lost in her own personal bliss of studying the faces of passersby. Noting cheek structure and mandibular depth, inter-eye distance and ear height, jaw contours and orbital spacing. And that was why, despite the new hair color and style, despite the fashionable glasses and adult makeup and clothing, Edna had recognized the missing girl.

Win sidled up next to him. "Did you give them the full-wattage smile?" "I'd say a good eighty, ninety watts." Win studied the young women before making a declaration: "Lesbians," he said. "Must be." "A lot of that going around, isn't there?" Myron did the math in his head. He probably had fifteen to twenty years on them. When it comes to young girls, you just never want to feel it.

The car following you," Win said, keeping his eyes on the young joggers, "is an unmarked police vehicle with two uniforms inside. They're parked in the library lot watching us through a telephoto lens." "You mean they're taking our picture right now?" "Probably," Win said. "How's my hair?" Win made an eh gesture with his hand. Myron

I opened the door. Mr. Grady sat at his desk and peered at me over his reading glasses. His suit jacket was off. He wore a short-sleeve dress shirt that probably fit a few years ago, but now it worked like a tourniquet around his neck and torso. He stood and hoisted his belt up. His pants were olive green. His hair was heavily thinning, pulled back and plastered to his scalp. "Mickey

When Elizabeth Bradford fell to her death, my mother may have seen something that appeared innocuous at first. I don't know what. Something bothersome maybe but nothing to get excited about. She continues to work for these people, scrubbing their floors and toilets. And maybe one day she opens a drawer. Or a closet. And maybe she sees something that coupled with what she saw the day Elizabeth Bradford died leads her to conclude that it wasn't an accident after all." Win

The receptionist said, "Mr. Englehardt will see you now." She led them down a corridor with thin plaster walls and a bad paint job. Englehardt sat behind a plastic-wood desk. He was probably late twenties with a slight build and a chin weaker than machine-dispensed coffee. Myron

She stopped as though out of breath. She hugged her knees to her chest and turned away. Myron looked at Win. Win kept still. The silence pressed against the windows and doors. Win

If you look at anything from the outside, it is easy to make sweeping ungenerous judgments. "How

Wait." Vic put a hand to his ear, as though straining to hear. He was a small man except for the enormous bowling-ball gut. His face might be called "ferretlike," if the ferret was really ugly. "What?

Roger was a skinny kid. His arms were reeds with absolutely no definition. He did not look up as she spoke.

The alley reeked, as all alleys do, of past garbage and dried urine. Myron waited for Roger to look up at him. Roger didn't.

He spotted Linda Coldren in a private grandstand tent overlooking the eighteenth hole. She wore sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low. Myron looked up at her. She did not look back. Her expression was one of mild confusion, like she was working on a math word problem or trying to recall the name behind a familiar face. For some reason, the expression troubled Myron. He stayed in her line of vision, hoping she'd signal to him. She didn't. Tad

No problem, dear," Phil said with a smile. It was a nice smile. A few years ago, it might have been returned, but nope, not today. Phil kept his eyes on her for maybe a second too long, though Wendy didn't think the girl noticed. Once the waitress was out of sight, Phil lifted his bottle toward Wendy. She picked up hers and clinked bottles and decided to stop this dance. "Phil

You seem like a decent investigator, Muse. But every once in a while, your naïveté is absolutely startling." Her