Quotes About Observation

Elara reached over, picked up a folder from her desk, and held it in front of her so only her eyes were visible. What are you doing? Waiting for your head to explode. I don't want to miss it, but I don't want to be splattered with gore.

Thank you," I said to Linus. "Of course. This is what I'm here for. It's my function as your witness." He grinned again. "Besides, things around you have a way of turning interesting. I do hate to be bored.

The boy wonder didn't melt into a pile of goo, although his gaze was glued to Rowena's chest. Avoiding eye contact. Good strategy.

She was the kind of person who would see a pot overflowing on the stove and come and tell you about it, instead of picking it up and moving it off the burner. And then she would be proud of herself for acting quickly in a crisis.

I'm your father. That's the great privilege of parenthood; we can comment on whatever we want.

I couldn't see Jim's face from all the way up here, but I recognized his pose well enough. It was his "what the hell is this bullshit?" pose.

The shirt molded to his shoulders and chest. His biceps stretched the sleeves. He looked strong, and rugged, and rough around the edges. He needed an ax or something, so he could casually swing it while he walked. I tilted my head and just watched.

I looked at his face and saw the decisive thrust of the adolescent jaw. No intelligent life there.

You look . . . You look." I cracked up. "And whatever the hell that scent is from those flowers is driving me crazy." He took my crown off and looked at me. "Nope. Not the flowers.

When he concentrates like that," Gaston told me, "if you're really quiet, you can hear the gears in his head turning. Sometimes you catch a faint puff of smoke coming out of his ears…

I'm used to watching for people with swords, I told him. I never saw the knife. You were too close.

You're an excellent analyst. Not everyone is born with the gift of snappy comeback.

It's worth a try. Maybe he'll be so happy you noticed his pork sword, he'll forget all about trying to kill us." Pork sword. Kill me now.

It is of great consequence to have previously determined the concept that one wants to elucidate through observation before questioning experience about it; for one finds in experience what one needs only if one knows in advance what to look for.

P]hysics... [is] the philosophy of nature, so far as it is based on empirical laws.

Gustavo Solivellas dice: Vemos las cosas, no como son, sino como somos nosotros (Kant)

That there may be inhabitants in the moon, although no one has ever observed them, must certainly be admitted; but this assertion means only, that we may in the possible progress of experience discover them at some future time.

Things which we see are not by themselves what we see.

What a beautiful horse! They really do have beautiful horses, by God." The young girls sighed. Then the bitter voice of some old man dozing by the stove called out, "Sure they do, they're our horses!

Once in an endless meadow, just able to peer through the tawny haze of the grass tops, the child who was myself had watched a young fox catching mice, an elegant newly minted fox, straight from the hand of God, brilliantly ruddy, with black stockings and a white-tipped brush. The fox heard and turned. I saw its intense vivid mask, its liquid amber eyes. Then it was gone. An image of such beauty and such mysterious sense. The child wept and knew himself an artist.

I have seen much of human beings over a long period, and I have learnt how little good to expect from them.

Good art shows us how difficult it is to be objective by showing us how differently the world looks to an objective vision.

I could not see other human beings at present.

I have always attributed a great importance to eyes. How mysteriously expressive those damp orbs can be; the eyeball does not change and yet it is the window of the soul. And colour in eyes is, in its nature and inherence, quite unlike colour in any other substance. Mr Osmand had grey eyes, but his eyes were hard and speckled like Aberdeen granite, while Tommy's were clear and empty like light smoke.