Quotes About Perception

You do have one prejudice though. I looked back at her again from under the brim of my hat. "You don't care about the living as much as you do the dead.

Dog's ears went up at the word "ham": they say dogs have a vocabulary of about twenty words, and I was pretty sure that seventeen of Dog's were ham.

You will stand and see the good, but you will also stand and see the bad—the dead shall rise and the blind will see.

Kind of like the tree that falls in the forest when nobody's around? I mean, if nobody remembers the history, did it still happen?

trust is like a broken mirror, you may still see yourself, but you can never dismiss the crack.

The older I get, the more I think I look like a Muppet. Cady vehemently disagrees with this assessment, but she's fighting her own battle with this particular gene puddle.

In my limited experience, women dreaded male statements that ended with "then you've got another think coming." It usually meant there was a lot more coming, but in this case there wasn't.

It all came down to judging—if you were a good judge of the man in front of you, you might survive; if not, then you were the honored dead.

We are finite beings; how can we understand the infinite?

As the saying goes, a cynic is the man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

They say statistics by their nature don't lie, but in my opinion they sometimes do and damnably at that.

My eyes closed again for what I thought was only a moment and when I opened them she was gone and a different head, panting with a different sort of breath and with a worried look on his long face, was hanging over me. Unsure, he slathered a lick on the side of my head with a tongue as wide as a paperback, correct in the belief that a good kiss made everything better—well, almost everything.

Look . . ." I dreaded female statements that started with "look." In my limited experience, there was nowhere to hide after they were made.

Hey, there was this Indian woman hitchhiking back to the Rez in the middle of the night and this white woman picks her up. The Indian woman says, 'Hey, thanks for picking me up. What are you doing out on the road this late?' The white woman points to a bottle in a brown paper bag sitting on the seat between them and says, 'I got this bottle of wine for my husband.' The Indian woman nodded, 'Good trade.'" Lolo

there's a goodlookin' woman behind every tree . . ." He joined me for the rest. "There just ain't any trees.

there was this Indian woman hitchhiking back to the Rez in the middle of the night and this white woman picks her up. The Indian woman says, 'Hey, thanks for picking me up. What are you doing out on the road this late?' The white woman points to a bottle in a brown paper bag sitting on the seat between them and says, 'I got this bottle of wine for my husband.' The Indian woman nodded, 'Good trade.

These dreams were so real they left me shaken and unsure of which world I was in.

had that feeling, not so much that I was falling, but that the world was receding.

Justice." She smiled again, but it quickly faded. "I'm surprised by you, Walt. I never thought of you as . . . as a vengeful person." "Pharisaic, I think, is the word you're looking for.

In my limited experience with politicians, I have learned that you do not have to be right all the time, but that it is absolutely essential to never appear wrong.

The American view was quite different. To them, the invasion was not to ratify a victory already won; it was to seize that victory by brute force. To the British, it was to be a victory lap; to the Americans it was a death grapple. In the long history of the alliance, this gap in perceptions was never bridged.

It was like being trapped forever in the present tense of the first line of a first reader.

Her laugh. The way she smoked before she gave up. Smoke trickling up her nostrils. Spokes of smoke when she spoke.

No one is exempt and everyone's pain has a different smell. At night, when all the colours die, they hide in pairs and read about themselves— in colour, with their eyelids shut.