Quotes About Observation

A journey of observation must leave as much as possible to chance. Random movement is the best plan for maximum observation

When we let ourselves see only what we expect to see," Genji said, "we view the contents of our own minds and miss what is truly before us.

When we let ourselves see only what we expect to see," Genji said, "we view the contents of our own minds and miss what is truly before us.

If you stand still outside you can hear it... Winter's footsteps, the sound of falling leaves.

When facing a single tree, if you look at a single one of its red leaves, you will not see all the others. When the eye is not set on one leaf, and you face the tree with nothing at all in mind, any number of leaves are visible to the eye without limit. But if a single leaf holds the eye, it will be as if the remaining leaves were not there.

When you look at a tree, se it for its leafs, its branches, its trunk and the roots, then and only then will you see the tree

Today I will be an observer. Today I will not judge that which I know nothing about. Today I will see that we are all Divine brothers and sisters on our own individual journeys co-creating situations that lead us to soulful healing. Today I will see that I AM exactly where I AM suppose to be & the lessons I AM learning at this very moment are so very important. Today I remember that I AM playing my very special part in someone elses journey. Namaste. Tamaey Gottuso

Women saw everything, and they thought about everything. The result was wisdom. For men, this was a frightening state of affairs, which is why they insist on holding on to power.

You forget I know you as my own son, Michael. The eyes that follow Lady Beatrix are not those of a man who stalks his prey—at least, not for the killing.

Tør jeg spørre hva som er så morsomt? spurte Alicia forsonlig, raseriet hadde tydeligvis kjølnet. Har du sett deg selv i det siste - eller tror du det bare er meg som ser ut som om jeg er dratt baklengs gjennom en hekk?

It's not just how firm a man's handshake is that define him, son. Any fool can have a strong grip. It's the way a man meets your eyes, or doesn't, that tells you who he is. That says whether he's dealing with you honestly or not.

Sarah couldn't remember when she'd last seen Charlie this happy. It was as if someone had yanked the dial of the dimmer switch round, lighting him up from inside. Normal Charlie was an endearing if reserved mix of cynicism and kindness, warmth and resignation. Now he shone with an emotional energy so exposing you almost wanted to look away, as if you were seeing something you shouldn't.

There was something about this girl's body language, the way she kept darting a look at Leanne, then turning her eyes quickly away, that made her think maybe she was telling the truth. In Leanne's experience, if people were lying, they tended either to look away the whole time or to fix you with intense eye contact as if daring you to disbelieve them.

Most humans think the appearance of quiet is quiet. They do not see that sometimes the enemy is as quiet as the serpent. Only when it has stolen all of their eggs will they know bad walks in the quiet as well as the noisy.

I suppose he could have changed," Neal said dryly. "I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil." The other pages snorted. Kel eyed her friend. "You do look yellow around the edges," she told him, her face quite serious. "I hadn't wanted to bring it up." "We daffodils like to have things brought up," Neal said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "It reminds us of spring.

I had always felt that I was an observer, never a participant; that I was watching from behind a thick glass wall as people went about the business of living--and did it with such ease, with a skill that they took for granted and that I had never known.

The thing about old neighborhoods: people still mind each other's business.

Foreshadow, plot buster or red herring... only time will tell: P69 -- Cassie waited; in the evening light through the window her eyes looked huge, opaque and watchful. I knew she was giving me a chance to say, Fuck the hair clip, let's forget we ever found it. Even now the temptation, tired and profitless though it may be, is to wonder what would have happened if I had.

I'd been expecting someone so nondescript he was practically invisible, maybe the Cancer Man from The X Files, but this guy had rough, blunt features and wide blue eyes, and the kind of presence that leaves heat streaks on the air where he's been.

I said she's not thick, kid. I didn't say she was Professor fucking Moriarty.

But you've seen plenty of her, from your

Knocknaree wood was the real thing, and it was more intricate and more secretive than I had remembered. It had its own order, its own fierce battles and alliances. I was an intruder here, now, and I had a deep prickling sense that my presence had instantly been marked and that the wood was watching me, with an equivocal collected gaze, not yet accepting or rejecting; reserving judgement.

I wouldn't say the carpet matches the curtains there," someone else says.

Selena had been singing along, absently, gazing into nowhere. She looked at us like she was trying to work out who we were, before she got up