Quotes About Encounter

Each fork in the road: the choice to stay home, to go out, to catch the flight, or cancel it, to take the 1 train, to stop at the bar on the corner. The chance encounters, split-second decisions that make the design—that are the design.

The test of learning psychology is whether your understanding of situations you encounter has changed, not whether you have learned a new fact.

To encounter such a being who wants nothing from you, who refuses nothing, who takes nothing, and who does not even want to lead you to liberation is the experience of all those who approach an authentic master. Such frequent contact makes us keen to attain the fluidity that we perceived in the mirror held out to us. A master is nothing else but the mirror of our own freedom.

I was out with my mum when a man started screaming at me: 'Georgia Groome. I love you.' Mum and I just looked at each other for a split second – and then ran away as fast as we could.

In an age of synthetic images and synthetic emotions, the chances of an accidental encounter with reality are remote indeed.

I feel unbelievably fortunate. How many people get to do what they always wanted to do and do well with it and continue to be surprised and see amazing places and meet amazing people?

No matter what laws or governments say, men can only know and come to care for one another by meeting face to face, arduously, and by the willing loss of comfort.

me in. A thickset man, 40s, swarthy, unshaven, in a loose v-neck t-shirt and carefully distressed and torn jeans came round from behind a desk piled high with scripts and shook my hand.

Shirlee opened the teak doors and ushered me in. A thickset man, 40s, swarthy, unshaven, in a loose v-neck t-shirt and carefully

It's not four days ago I find a bastard squatting here, asking me if I read books. Like he would jump me with a book or something. Take me for a ride with the telephone directory.

I had never met the Roman Catholuc Church outside of a history book. To come across it living, so to speak, was like finding a diplodocus.

if we are going to meet God, we will meet God in the flesh.

My father passed me. He looked briefly at me as you might at a stump or a broken machine or anything that's specific only in that it's in your way, to walk around it as my father did me.

So there I am, wondering what to do, and I see you, and I see what you're carrying. And _that_ is why I came running after you. Because I do not believe in coincidence.

I don't think that elegant Miss Nigeria will have the imagination or the conscience to explore the possibilities of that encounter. She will dodge the rude beggar and speed away in her expensive car to a sterile assignation with her bloated Mr. Hoverhead Capital.

We all have defining moments in our lives—meaningful experiences that stand out in our memory. Many of them owe a great deal to chance: A lucky encounter with someone who becomes the love of your life. A new teacher who spots a talent you didn't know you had. A sudden loss that upends the certainties of your life.

He'd just finished one drink when an attractive woman approached and asked if she could buy him another. He was surprised but flattered. Sure, he said. The woman walked to the bar and brought back two more drinks—one for her and one for him. He thanked her and took a sip. And that was the last thing he remembered.

LET'S SUM UP WHERE we are. If you think about a normal decision process, it usually proceeds in four steps: • You encounter a choice. • You analyze your options. • You make a choice. • Then you live with it. And what we've seen is that there is a villain that afflicts each of these stages: • You encounter a choice. But narrow framing makes you miss options.

Everyone has a story. I don't believer anyone can go through life without encountering at least one amazing thing.

There's always a connection, a reason because of which people enter your orbit, bristling with dark energy like a meteor intent on collision.

Away back in that time-in 1492-there was a man by the name of Columbus came from across the great ocean, and he discovered the country for the white man. . . What did he find when he first arrived here Did he find a white man standing on the continent then . . . I stood here first, and Columbus first discovered me.

Riley scooched through a hole he knew about in the fence and carefully headed toward Mr. Jenkins's elevated back porch. It was made of concrete and free of snow, shielded by an angled aluminum awning overhead. As he moved closer, Riley could see the tops of a pair of tan boots peeking out of a wooden crate pushed into a corner where the porch's railings met the house's brick wall.

When you meet somebody for the first time, you're not meeting them, you're meeting their representative.

Hey," he replied. "Got a light?" she asked, raising an unlit cigarette to her chapped lips.