Quotes About Perception

My mother, as a woman in her sixties, is mostly a mystery to me. In my mind, she's an eternal forty-two, and as her daughter, I never get past seventeen. There

Me, I trust people who show you what freaks they are. It's the ones who blend in that ya gotta watch out for.

And don't let anyone trick you into playing bass. The world's got enough chick bass players Seriously, though. Why play bass when you can play guitar?

Reason is only a drug, and its effects cannot be permanent.

For however handsome and merry may be the face, however rich may be the background, in the first rough sketch of each portrait, yet with every added stroke of the brush, with every tiny readjustment of the "values," with every modification of the chiaroscuro, the eyes looking out at you grow more disquieting?

And he would gaze in terror at his furniture, his walls, his pictures - what strange scene might they one day witness, what awful experience might he one day have in their presence?

Fairyland is the place where what we look upon as symbols and figures actually exist and occur

it was a reality shared by all the world, and not merely an optical delusion confined to their own eyes in their own garden.

But, after these days of nightmare, there was something reassuring in discovering that there were still people in the world sane enough, and with quiet enough minds, to be put out by the holes in a pair of worsted stockings.

there is not a single homely thing that, looked at from a certain angle, does not become fairy. Endymion Leer

It was as if he thought he had already lost what he was actually holding in his hands.

Reality was beginning to become very shadowy and menacing.

Besides, there was that foolish feeling of his that reality was not solid, and that facts were only plastic toys; or, rather, that they were poisonous plants, which you need not pluck unless you choose. And, even if you do pluck them, you can always fling them from you and leave them to wither on the ground. He

When, on his return to Lud-in-the-Mist, he had been twitted for having wasted so much time on such an unworthy object, he had answered that a pig was thrall to the same master as a Mayor, and that it needed as much skill to cure the one as the other; adding that a good fiddler enjoys fiddling for its own sake, and that it is all the same to him whether he plays at a yokel's wedding or a merchant's funeral.

Have you ever noticed a little child of three or four walking hand in hand with its father through the streets? It is almost as if the two were walking in time to perfectly different tunes. Indeed, though they hold each other's hand, they might be walking on different planets … each seeing and hearing entirely different things.

it is never safe to classify the souls of one's neighbors; one is apt, in the long run, to be proved a fool. You should regard each meeting with a friend as a sitting he is unwittingly giving you for a portrait — a portrait that, probably, when you or he die, will still be unfinished.

anyone,then, who has tasted fairy fruit walks through life beside other people to a different tune from theirs

the sun would set, and then our riders could watch the actual process of colour fading from the world. Was that tree still really green, or was it only that they were remembering how a few seconds ago it had been green?

there was that foolish feeling of his that reality was not solid, and that facts were only plastic toys; or, rather, that they were poisonous plants, which you need not pluck unless you choose. And, even if you do pluck them, you can always fling them from you and leave them to wither on the ground.

Was it possible that Ranulph, too, was a real person, a person inside whose mind things happened? He had thought that he himself was the only real person in a field of human flowers. For Master Nathaniel that was a moment of surprise, triumph, tenderness, alarm.

There had always been something rather brutal about (..._) common sense.

The law plays fast and loose with reality- and no one really believes it.

it is never safe to classify the souls of one's neighbors; one is apt, in the long run, to be proved a fool. You should regard each meeting with a friend as a sitting he is unwillingly giving you for a portrait -- a portrait that, probably, when you or he die, will still be unfinished.

Why do grown-ups think they can talk over your head? When my mother and her friends gossip, they think I don't understand what they're saying, because they talk all around a subject instead of using plain words. Or they don't finish a sentence and then give each other meaningful looks. Well, it doesn't take a genius to fill in the blanks--I've learned how to figure out what goes in blanks from taking school tests.