Quotes About Perception

CNN had a story, but like a lot of CNN stuff, most of it seemed to have been garbled by a mentally challenged paranoiac;

Virgil had read once that Grandma Moses was a primitive painter because she thought snow was white. The writer said if you really looked at it, snow was hardly ever white. It mostly was a gentler version of the color of the sky - blue, gray, orange in the evenings and mornings, often with purple shadows. When he looked, sure enough, the guy was right, and Grandma Moses had her head up her ass.

He dressed in dark sport coats over black golf shirts because, he thought, they made him look smaller. They didn't; they made him look like a hole in space.

We see things as they are, we project out consequences of our actions, very pragmatically. We don't stir in a lot of hope, we don't turn blind eyes.

Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills,'" Virgil said, quoting Napoleon Dynamite.

Only the criminally stupid or naïve assumed that the other side was less clever.

Atheists, he came to believe, generally worked in man-made cubes, with blackboards and computers and fast food. They didn't believe in wonders because they never saw any.

It's more important to look good, than to feel good," Lucas said.

He didn't know if that was good or bad: concealed-carry people actually committed fewer felonies per year than cops did 

Taryn was now thirty-four. She still had those major assets—she was blond, good-looking, with interesting places in all the interesting places.

Virgil thanked him, and as he was leaving, said, "I wouldn't necessarily recommend you invite a cop inside, when you've been smoking dope." "It's medicinal," Gates said. "Besides, does anybody really care anymore?

Lipsky said: "I'll tell you something, Layton: ninety-five percent it's nothing. Probably somebody shot a buck out of season, and you were smelling the gut dump. Those can be pretty hard to see in the dark, once they go gray. But, five percent, we gotta go look.

Sorensen asked, "And you believe all of them?" "I don't really believe any of them," Lucas said. "I can't afford to—but I think all but one are telling the truth. I just don't know who that one is.

It's a mixed crowd at the dogs - black, white, hispanic - but to Walt they all look like Jackie Gleason. Heavyset guys with big plans and polyester souls.

It's hard to sell the official story to people who can see things for themselves.

I'm a monster. You're a monster. We're all fucking inhuman monsters, and we don't see a damned thing wrong with it.

So we're the monster police, too?" I said to Tom. "Correct," he replied. "The only real question is, who are the monsters?" "They ask that question in every monster movie, you know. It's an actual trope." "I know," Tom said. "What does it say about us that it's relevant every single time they ask it?

Jesus, Kerensky said, looking around. You people. I have one of the most incredible experiences I'll ever have, talking with the one person who really gets me - who really understands me - and you're all down here thinking I'm performing some sort of time-travelling incestuous masturbation thing.

That's the human brain," Attavio VI said. "It creates patterns when there aren't any. Imagines causality when there is none. Imagines a narrative where none exists. It's in the design of the brain itself. It's primed to lie." "And primed to believe the lie.

Mom, I remember Lizzie," Hart said. "She's really not my type." "She has a brother," Wes said, from his lounge. "He's not my type, either," Hart said.

I was just talking about you," Cardenia said, coming up to him. "To your imaginary friends, I see." "They're not imaginary. They're just not real." "Very subtle distinction.

God damn it, Thomas said as he sat down at the table, carrying a tray so piled with food that it was a miracle he could even lift it. Aren't we all just too good-looking for words.

The reality is more complicated, but as with most humans, the people on Earth prefer the simple answer.

I don't look smug." "You always look smug. You have resting smug face.