Quotes About Perception

Have you, in truth, ever seen something so heartbreakingly lovely? What are we to make of a world where stars shine bright in the midst of so much darkness and gloom?

Don't we all live in our heads? Where else could we possibly exist? Our brains are the universe.

Rats have a sense of humor. Rats, in fact think the world is very funny. And they are right, dear reader. They are right.

It occurred to her that nobody really knew what anybody else was upset about, and that seemed like a terrible thing.

Love!' said the princess. She stamped her foot. 'Why must everyone always speak of love?

Things are not at all what they seem to be: oh no, not at all.

Her words sounded the way all those things made him feel, as if the world, the real world, had been punched through, so that he could see something wonderful and dazzling on the other side of it.

Do not hope; instead, observe" were words that Flora, as a cynic, had found useful in the extreme. She repeated them to herself a lot.

Perhaps this is a dream, said Madam La Vaughn from her chair. Perhaps the whole thing has been nothing but a dream.

And he told himself, reader, that it was the cloth that he desired and not the light.

You know, my eyes ain't too good at all. I can't see nothing but the general shape of things, so I got to rely on my heart. Why don't you go on and tell me everything about yourself, so as I can see you with my heart.

Here is something I have learned: you should never expect help from someone who perpetually has their hair in curlers.

The story is smarter than I am.

They lived happily ever after. It said so. In the book. They were the last words on the page. Happily ever after. Despereaux was sure that he had read exactly those words time and time again. Lying on the floor with the drum beating and the mice shouting... Despereaux had a sudden, chilling thought: Had some other mouse eaten the words that spoke the truth? Did the knight and the fair maiden really not live happily ever after?

cock his head this way and that. Called him Cricket, on

Flora had decided that this was part of the reason her parents had divorced. Not the noise of the writing, but the writing itself. Specifically, the writing of romance. Flora

The world no longer shone, but it was very bright ... Strange world! Impossible world!

Normalcy is an illusion, of course," said William Spiver. "There is no normal.

I once had a teacher called Mrs McGregor who said that the world was turning very slowly on its axis. It is moving infinitesimally, said Mrs McGregor. Infinitesimally. [...] But here is the thing: it did not feel to me like the earth was moving infinitesimally. It felt like it was hurtling and jerking its way through a lonely darkness. To my way of thinking, you never knew when the earth was going to lurch and go somewhere entirely unexpected. There was nothing infinitesimal about it.

There is just no predicting what kind of sentences you might say, thought Flora. For instance, who would ever think you would shout, "You're going to vacuum up that squirrel!"?

Sorry.' He lowered his head and sniffed the floor. But, reader, he was not smelling. He was listening, with his big ears, to the sweet sound that no other mouse seemed to hear.

To Flora, the doorbell sounded like the electric chair. Not

Franny Block, sitting on the floor behind her desk. "Miss Franny?" I said. "Are you all right?" "A bear," she said. "A bear?" I asked.

She might be a natural-born cynic, but she knew the right word when she heard it.