Quotes About Perception

I don't just look at the thing itself or at the reality itself; I look around the edges for those little askew moments-kind of like what makes up our lives-those slightly awkward, lovely moments.

a baby's failure to reach for an object hidden under a blanket does not support the rather dramatic conclusion that the baby thinks the object has ceased to exist. Perhaps he simply does not yet have sufficient hand-arm coordination to reach for a hidden object. In fact, we now know that this explanation is correct. Recent experiments, more sophisticated than Piaget's, indicate that even very young babies have a well-developed sense of object permanency.

It is unwise to judge an argument by its least articulate proponents.

I thought you were all-seeing." All-knowing, not all-seeing!" he snapped. "I'm a God, not Santa Claus!

I glanced up to see Liz and smiled. Thank you. I just went along for the ride. After that happened- She waved at Derek. You know how blind people need Seeing Eye dogs? Well, apparently werewolves could really use Opening Door poltergeists.

A stereotype becomes a stereotype when a significant percentage of the population appears to conform to it.

That's what being crazy was, wasn't it? You thought you were fine. Everyone else knew better.

When I leaned a little too close to the doorway, my inner voice piped up, telling me not to be stupid. The guy with the bionic senses was better equipped for this.

What's wrong? I didn't say a word. Something's up. What is it? Nothing. His head turned, gaze going to mine. Yeah? Yes. A snort and he returned to his bowl…

Tori walked toward the bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her give Derek a once-over. You know, from this angle, he doesn't look too bad, she said. I glared at her. I'm just saying . . . I leaned over Derek, calling him as loudly as I dared. Personally, I'm more a running back girl myself, Tori said. But if you like the linebacker type, he's-- My glower shut her up

No. Harsh truth was better than comfortable lies. It had to be.

You think I led him on? For what? Kicks? I don't have enough exictement in my life, so maybe I'll tease a nice guy, get his hopes up, then laugh and skip away?

He rolled his eyes. First, my Dad's Korean and my mom was Swedish. Second, I totally suck at math. I don't like cuckoo clocks or skiing or fancy chocolate either. I sputtered a laugh. I think that's Swiss.

Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I'm still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it's no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, "Thank God that's not me".

Cleavage is great, she said. Like an extra pocket.

Yes, I can talk and think at the same time. Most people can, though I suppose you wouldn't know that from personal experience. Elena (Bitten)

Yes, I said You were saved by a girl. Horrible, isn't it? He slid out and looked down at my bare legs. Not just a girl, but a half-naked one. Now that's hot. If I'm still unconscious, don't wake me, okay?

I could only stare, any sense that maybe I understood him evaporating as it always did. I'd glimpse something underneath, and he'd snatched it away so fast it left bruises that called me a fool for hoping for more.

Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it's fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay?

Expecting to see a Doberman slavering at the fence, i followed his gaze to a little puff of white fur, the kind of dog women stick in their purses. I wasn't even barking, just staring and dancing in place. Oh, my god! It's a killer Pomeranian. I glanced up at Derek. It's a tough call, but i think you can take him. He glared.

So, let me get this straight, he said to me. You save my ass and you're a loser. I stick up for you because of it and I'm a hero. How does that work? I don't know. But it's so sweet.

This is so cool," I said as Dad walked away. "Have you met the tattoo artist? Is he hot? "He's a she," Mom said. "Is she hot? Cause I'm still young, you know. My sexual identity isn't fully formed.

The look she gave me reminded me of when is was seven and I'd proudly informed out housekeeper that I'd donated half my clothing to a charity drive at school. It had seemed perfectly sensible to me-I didn't need so much stuff-but she'd stared at me like Margaret was now, with a mix of horror and disbelief.

Do you really think he untied you? .. He was just checking his kids handiwork.