Quotes About Perception

Stories,' she says, 'are the only thing in this world that are real. Everything else is just a dream.

It's amazing how boring you can get away with being when you're pretty. No one seems to notice. When you're pretty everyone just assumes you must have a great life. People are so short-sighted, sometimes. People are so stupid.

And it occurs to her for the very first time that maybe Hanna isn't intrinsically unhappy. That maybe she just doesn't like her.

That wearing shiny shoes with bows on and rolling your eyes at other kids is not a sign of maturity, but a sign that you've missed a whole set of steps on the road to maturity.

People could look and see just a man, but in the same glance, the answer to all their problems.

Once you had a reputation for being nice you couldn't mess with it.

Libby can hear the whisper of every moment that this room has existed. Feel every breath of every person who has ever sat where she is sitting.

Poppy's hands fall on to the book. 'Stories', she says, 'are the only thing in this world that are real. Everything else is just a dream.

His minute steak was tough and chewy, the chips were too greasy, and the ketchup wasn't Heinz.

But she knows this isn't true. They're more than just people. They're a mood, a feeling, a vibe, an aspiration. They're like a music video or a trailer for a really cool movie. They're a billboard poster for a hip clothing brand.

I have exquisite taste, but I just don't know how to put tasteful things together in any semblance of visual harmony. No. I am not good at creating visual harmony. It's OK. I'm good at lots of other things.

I had gone back to being the "other" Saffyre Maddox, the one who showed up in the classroom every morning clean and fresh, hair neatly tied back, some mascara, some lip gloss. It wasn't so much that I actively wanted to look nice, it was more that if I didn't look nice, people would worry, they'd ask me questions, the pastoral-care woman would pull me into her office and expect me to tell her what was wrong with me.

I'd subliminally determined at this point that the only way to really know what was going on in the world was to listen to women talk.

At thirty-two years of age, Rachel tried not to dwell too much on the fact that her entire adult existence was a mirage.

in the context of a school trip it was as though they'd all just been released from a sensory-deprivation capsule.

All that air," you repeated. "You are funny." "No. I'm just Irish.

The point is … you. You're the point. I thought I knew you. I thought I knew who you were. That golden girl in the pharmacy. That girl with the lustre, the class, the elegance. The girl who'd been waiting for her prince.

of walking about with a shaved head, he walked past Whackadoo. He saw neither Romola nor Joey, but it didn't matter. Just the very act of allowing himself to be seen in this new and somewhat alarming guise was exciting

What you were getting into?' 'Yeah. Damaged goods.' Rachel felt a punch to the back of her gut at these words and the burn of bile at the base of her throat. 'I'm sorry?' 'Yeah. I guess I was duped by the English accent. Fooled into thinking it somehow equated with class. Yet again.

It was hard for her to understand why Arlette was alive when Freddie Mercury, for example, was dead.

Seems strange,' he continues. 'A girl you barely know, yet you have selfies with her on your phone and then she's cuddling up to you at the bus stop like she's your best friend.

The only bad books are books that are so badly written that no one will publish them. Any book that had been published is going to be a 'good book' for someone

None of them seemed to care. They described her as cold and secretive, difficult and demanding. They described Justin as a hippy, a space cadet, as too nice for Birdie.

Such a shit, her big brother. He hid it with a mischievous veneer of dark humor, but she sometimes suspected that the darkness ran much deeper.