Quotes About Perception

Everywhere I go to find this boy, to save this boy, I run into something worse than what we are saving him from … but we still think monsters are the ones with claws, and scales and skin.

Reason is for rich people. We have madness.

And that's all this Prime Minister needed, a nice multi-syllable word like destabilization to turn it into a fucking jingle. But he threw us on the defensive in a way that I'll make sure never happens again. Of course the only people listening was Penthouse magazine. Goddamn, what does it mean when the conscience of America airbrushes pussy for a living?

Because every man who fight monster become a monster too, and there be at least one woman in Kingston who think me is the killer of all things name hope.

You'll be asking of love next," he said. "Well, do you have love for the man, and does the man love you?" He looked straight at me. Either he just grew whiskers, or I just saw them. "Nobody loves no one," he said. He turned away and nodded at the tree.

you see and wait

am slowly realizing that even though the Singer is the center of the story that it really isn't his story. Like there's a version of this story that's not really about him, but about the people around him, the ones who come and go that might actually provide a bigger picture than me asking him why he smokes ganja.

people just don't know a nightmare when they right in the middle of one.

Because every man who fight monster become a monster too, and there be at least one woman in Kingston who think me is the killer of all things name hope. People think me lose it because it bother me that me kill the school boy by mistake, but don't realize that me losing it because it supposed to bother me but don't.

Miss Betsy is looking at me. Some jealousy sure, but every woman have that in them

Louis Johnson still don't really believe I can read, which might be why he keep showing me grocery list upside down and saying it's a classified document.

This Singer think because he come from where we come from that he understand how we live. But he don't understand nothing. Everybody think the way him think when they leave and come back. That everything was exactly how they leave it. But we different. We harder than him and we don't care. He flee before you turn into something like we. And

Weeper stare at me hard then laugh. Nothing like a Weeper laugh, it start like a wheeze then somewhere, and you never know where, it explode into the biggest thing in the room. Who teach this little black man that he can laugh so?

All the time she's silent. All the women were silent except the white one talking to Trent. If it wasn't for the red, green and gold and that the skirts are often denim, I'd think I was surrounded by Muslim women.

Something happen when somebody tell you something about yourself even if you already know.

Looking? —Ah . . . no . . . —Then how you're gonna know when you found it?

This is the thing about redheads, isn't it? No matter how long you've lived with them, you're always surprised when they turn and look straight at you.

They like him better when he was the poor cousin that they can feel good for taking notice. I tell him that politician do the same thing to me when they realize me can read.

see how the white womens goin' look and hear how white womens laugh in the colonies. She think of white flesh and black flesh, that really be brown flesh by blood and the two flesh melt into one flesh that don't know colour. Then Lilith wonder if she dreaming because dreaming is one thing God never allow negro to do.

And all I could think of is Oh Lord here it comes, another white man about to tell me about how much he enjoyed Ocho Rios, but would have enjoyed it so much more if it weren't for all the poverty. And the country is so beatiful and the people so friendly and even in all this tragedy everybody still manages a smile especially the bombor'asscloth children.

I love how Americans can just claim something to be whatever they feel it is despite clear evidence it is not. Like football game with nobody using any feet that takes forever.

Before you see the monkey, the monkey has seen you.

Everybody lives in their own Jamaica and damn if that was ever going to be mine.

is not gone, you're in the flatness of the deadlands. Time doesn't stop. You watch it move but you are still, like a painting with a Mona Lisa smile.