Quotes About Perception

O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Never shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.

every one is a visionary, if you scratch him deep enough. But the Celt is a visionary without scratching.

There is some Myth for every man, which, if we but knew it, would make us understand all that he did and thought.

Go on, live in your poultry-yard. Scratch straw and cluck and cackle at everything that you take for a fox. [Exit.

Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.

It was at the moment of the fall of day when every man may pass as handsome and every woman as comely.

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

Philadelphia, wonderful town, spent a week there one night

Women are like elephants to me. I like to look at 'em, but I wouldn't want to own one.

A real book is not one that we read, but one that reads us.

All we are not stares back at what we are.

Whatever you do, good or bad, people will always have something negative to say

Every man carries with him through life a mirror, as unique and impossible to get rid of as his shadow.

A person incapable of imaging another world than given to him by his senses would be subhuman, and a person who identifies his imaginary world with the world of sensory fact has become insane.

Language is the mother, not the handmaiden, of thought; words will tell you things you never thought or felt before.

A daydream is a meal at which images are eaten. Some of us are gourmets, some gourmands, and a good many take their images precooked out of a can and swallow them down whole, absent-mindedly and with little relish.

And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom.

In the eyes of others a man is a poet if he has written one good poem. In his own he is only a poet at the moment when he is making his last revision to a new poem. The moment before, he was still only a potential poet; the moment after, he is a man who has ceased to write poetry, perhaps forever.

There's always another story. There's more than meets the eye.

Lovers have lived so long with giants and elves, they won't believe again in their own size.

So I wish you first a Sense of theatre; only Those who love illusion And know it will go far: Otherwise we spend our Lives in a confusion Of what we say and do with Who we really are.

But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: 'O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time

The words of a dead man Are modified in the guts of the living.