Quotes About Perception

Have you ever felt that there was something going on in life that not everyone was aware of?

Evil isn't beautiful on its own. You know?' 'Well, good people are sometimes ugly-' Blanche said at last. 'I don't know about that. Not really,' Bear shook his head. 'If the good's there, and you look for it, you'll see it in some way.' 'I think Bear is right,' Rose said decidedly. 'Fairy tales teach you that. No one who's really good ever stays ugly. It's always a disguise.

She couldn't picture anyone falling madly in love with such a person as Fish. What a name, Fish...Fish: think cold, slippery, detached. Benedict: think dry scholarly monk from the Dark Ages. Denniston: think English preparatory school, stolid country squire. Nothing about his name sounded the least bit romantic.

He was likely the only one who realized there was a will of iron under the porcelain.

It has been estimated that out of every million parts of information received and processed by our body, we humans only admit thirteen parts into our conscious awareness. That means we only allow ourselves to be conscious of .000013 percent of the data, of experience, known to our body. That

Though every prospect pleases,And only man is vile.

So what to do? . . . She shook her head impatiently. Choice is a largely delusional concept, her tutor used to say. Whether in politics, morals or shopping, we have far less than we imagine. In the end what we have to do often doesn't even figure on our list of pseudo-options.

Sorry?" said Dalziel turning. "What's that you said?" He cupped a large hand to a proportionally large ear. If the buggers get clever, he had once told Pascoe, pretend you can't hear. Then pretend you can't understand. Nothing's funny if it's repeated and explained.

Twelve strangers," he interrupted, "twelve citizens picked off the street. In this world we're unfortunate to live in, and especially in this septic isle we live on,where squalid politicians conspire with the squalid press to feed a half-educated and wholly complacent public on a diet of meretricious trivia, I'm sure it would be possible to concoct enough evidence to persuade twelve strangers that Nelson Mandela was a cannibal.

Reginald Hill

Facts may be colored by the personalities of the people who present them.

It's very hard to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And no matter where you run into it, prejudice obscures the truth.

8th Juror: Did you ever see a woman who had to wear glasses and didn't want to because she thinks they spoil her looks? 6th Juror: My wife. Listen, I'm telling ya, as soon as we walk outa the house... 8th Juror: Maybe the district attorney didn't know either. 6th Juror: Yeah, that's what I was just gonna say. 3rd Juror: Ok. She had marks on her nose. I'm givin' ya that. From glasses. Right? She never worn 'em out of the house so people think'd she was gorgeous.

Winter and Summer While it's summer people say Winter is the better season. Such is human reason. Kamijima Onitsura

Like a lightning bug... Like a lightning bug?... Yes, just like a night lightning bug; because there are day lightning bugs too - even if nobody has ever seen one, I know there are some, and I know the day lightning bugs are the cockroaches that since they can't light up, people kill them.

Qué pasa, qué pasa. Y no sentí miedo. Y no sentí tristeza. Y no sentí nada. Porque todo eso lo había sentido tanto que ya ni cuenta me daba si era que siempre lo estaba sintiendo o si ya no lo podía volver a sentir aunque quisiera.

pues lo real, se dijo, o intuyó, esparciendo un gajo, oscureciendo un follaje, creando un nuevo matiz, no está en el terror que se padece sino en las invenciones que lo borran, pues ellas son más fuertes, más reales, que el mismo terror...

Peklo nastává jen tehdy, pokud si lidé dÄ›lají faleÅ¡né pÃ…â"¢edstavy o nebi.

Without atmosphere a painting is nothing.

De regen op de ruit als de wind schuin staat de lampen die zwaaien boven de tramrails simpele dingen wil ik zien en horen zonder de poespas van de betekenislaag.

De camera staat nu op zijn kop. Met mijn voeten hang ik aan de straten van de stad, mijn hoofd zwabbert in de leegte. Trams slaan vonken uit de ruimte. Lantaarnpalen breken los uit het trottoir en storten de diepte in. De regisseur is verliefd geworden op zijn effect en vergeet z'n levensgevaarlijk rondscharrelende hoofdrolspeler. Ik raak verward in de glanzend berijpte takken van een boom.

Liefde is altijd ergens anders, een watervlugge bokser met prachtig voetenwerk en oogverblindende schijnbewegingen, die nooit toeslaat en die niet te slaan is.

Simple ideas lie within the reach only of complex minds.