Quotes About Perception

What do you mean, funny? Funny peculiar or funny ha-ha?

Funny-peculiar or funny-ha-ha

I think writers, by nature, are more observers instead of participators.

Our enemies are small worms,' he told his generals. 'I saw them in Munich.

Miss Austen has made herself known without making herself public.

But there is a truth here; seeing is magical. Looking kills. The longer I looked, the more the magic faded.

I think sometimes my humor is extremely dry, and a lot of times I would say things that I thought were very funny but... I have a reputation of - people think of me as a very fundamentalist, humorless fellow.

I do feel like I have always, in my life, been inclined to be on the outside, walk a different path or something. Because of that, and increasingly over the years, my sense of distance from mainstream society or from the way culture works, I have a different kind of perception of it.

If God truly were inside you, could you bear to look at it? Necdet says.

Under a sky the color of judgment

Language and how close it comes to truth, and how far away it is.

Everyone has a camera on their phone and no one sees UFOs anymore.

Like these entities may be the lost acres of the mind, things that have been overlooked by the higher consciousness; that it can't see them, can't process them, fills in the space where they are by folding up the visual map around them., putting things on either side next to each other, like the blind spot in the eye.

they were triplets and as mutually indistinguishable as peas in a pod or days in a prison.

She had almost tripped over him as he watched the drops fall with idiot fascination. Somehow she could not hurry past with a brief flicker of nona dolorosa to indicate her annoyance

Faces, places … such and such a face appeared at such and such a place, such and such a face disappeared at such and such a place, such and such a face was always in the third seat from the left when she got on, such and such a face was always hanging from the strap by the door when she got off … same faces, same places. But not today! Today those faces are two hours behind Courtney Hall, it's different faces today, let's have a look at them, what do we see?

every possible Euclidean and non-Euclidean permutation of lights; ten thousand lights, ten million lights, the ten billion lights of Great Yu, each one a voice calling, "I is what I am! Notice me! Notice me!

Now that he knew that he was, that he existed to celebrate his existence, he looked with delight and fascination at every all-night hot-food stall, every neon welcome to a caste bar or club, every vagrant waft of steam from the pneumatique ventilators, every puddle of yellow streetlight, every rain-slick cobble, because in the continued existence of those other things he saw his own being reflected.

in the continued existence of those other things he saw his own being reflected.

he looked up and around him in awe and amazement. And saw the faces in the architecture.

What divine law is it, Luis Quinn wondered, that where the birds are fantastical in color and plumage their song offends the ear, yet at home the dowdy blackbird could wring the heart?

The coffee doesn't taste the way it smells. For that Adriana is thankful. If it did, humans would never do anything other than drink it. Smell is the sense of memory. Each coffee would recall countless memories, boundless memories. Coffee as the drug of remembering.

COLD. "Cold," he said, and understood. Cold was the meaning for his shivering body, the steaming billows of his breath, the trickleways of water down the windows

he marveled at that word that had come to his lips out of nothing. "Water, forefinger." The words were coming fast now, tumbling, streaming out of that noplace where the names of all things waited to be used. "I am cold, I can speak, and I am tracing this water down this window with my forefinger.