Everything You See Around You Quotes

Pleased? On the contrary. I think you're in the grip of tedium. You're tired of life, you think you've learned all there is to learn, and everything you see around you only increases your sense of tedium. Why, then, should I feel pleased? It isn't always easy to cut off a tentacle. You can always leave a boring job and, even more easily, a boring woman, but tedium, how do you cut yourself off from that? ~ Jose Saramago

Commit yourself to the possibility that everything you see around you is far less real than God. You want to see the truth "with all your heart, with all you soul, and with all your mind," as Jesus says. This is actually a commitment to joy. ~ Deepak Chopra

If you discovered that you were the only person in the world, and everything you see around you was in fact a part of you, dramatised, how would that change what you are doing right now, right this very instant? What would you stop doing? What would you start doing? What would suddenly not matter at all? ~ Scarlett Thomas

You are the world. Everything that you see around you is a reflection of your soul and mind. ~ Debasish Mridha

The main purpose of TV, to make you believe in everything you see around you, is real.
And then, direct you, by using your own power against you, to make you go to where they want you to go. ~ VicDo

I'm going out," I said.
I loved the way that sounded. It was just like what the heroes say in war movies right before they hurl themselves out of the plane. I felt like I should wink and say something like, "See you around, guys" and be really cool about it – but who was I kidding? I wasn't cool. I'd just sound like an idiot. ~ Vicki Grant

I spin around and see Max running toward me in a gray Armani shirt. "Dante. Oh, Dante. Seal me! Seal me so hard!" He grabs my hips and pumps his toward mine. "Oh, Dante! You're so hot when you seal souls!"
I shove my idiot-of-a-best-friend off me and laugh. ~ Victoria Scott

The aisles of the Varied Industries building had grown too coagulated, so Marlys led the girl around the building, the girl's legs churning to keep up. They came out directly behind the fire hydrant that they'd planted the night before, separated from it by the dense crowd. Marlys asked a tall man at the back, "Do you see them yet? ~ John Sandford

Let's go out to the parking lot so you can get some air," he says, putting an arm around me and hustling me out the door and through the restaurant.
We step outside, and I sway on my feet a little. Peter's trying not to smile. "You're drunk."
"I guess I'm a weightlight!"
"Lightweight." He pinches my cheeks.
"Right. Weightlight. I mean, lightweight." Why is that so funny? I can't stop laughing. But then I see the way he is looking at me, with such tenderness, and I stop. I don't feel like laughing anymore. I feel like crying. Look at the way he made my dad's bachelor party so special. Look at all the ways he loves me so well. I have to love him back just as much. ~ Jenny Han

I think about Rilke, who said that it's the questions that move us, not the answers. As a writer I believe it is our task, our responsibility, to hold the mirror up to social injustices that we see and to create a prayer of beauty. The questions serve us in that capacity. Pico Iyer describes his writing as "intimate letters to a stranger," and I think that is what the writing process is. It begins with a question, and then you follow this path of exploration.

... I write out of my questions. Hopefully, if we write out of our humanity, our vulnerable nature, then some chord is struck with a reader and we touch on the page. I know that is why I read, to find those parts of myself in a story that I cannot turn away from. The writers who move me are the ones who create beauty and truth out of their sufferings, their yearnings, their discoveries. It is what I call the patience of words born out of the search.

... Perhaps as writers we are really storytellers, finding that golden thread that connects us to the past, present, and future at once. I love language and landscape. For me, writing is the correspondence between these two passions. It is difficult to ever see yourself. I don't know how I've developed or grown as a writer. I hope I am continuing to take risks on the page. I hope I am continuing to ask the hard questions of myself. If we are attentive to the world and to those around us, I believe we will be attentive on the page. Writing is about presen ~ Terry Tempest Williams

He captured her wild gaze with his own. "Look at me, Empress. I want to see you come undone. I want to watch you go over the edge with me."
"I can't-I--I don't know--how." She thrashed her head from one side to the other, panting out words.
"We shall discover it together."
And they did. The coiled tension within her was set free, and she convulsed around him in a perfect prison, milking him with sweet, unbearable rhythm. She cried out his name, scoring his shoulders with her fingernails as she grabbed hold of him, and he watched her come unraveled.
And then, only then, once she had found her pleasure, did he take his own, calling out as he followed her over the edge with a force he had never before experienced. ~ Sarah MacLean

I've been actually really very pleased to see how much awareness was raised around bullying, and how deeply it affects everyone. You know, you don't have to be the loser kid in high school to be bullied. Bullying and being picked on comes in so many different forms. ~ Lady Gaga

Little boys jump, but they do not know where. Into the mouth of the demon lair. Hold still and you will see, in his hand is the key. Fire and brimstone. Brimstone and fire. Your ally is clever. a thief and a liar. All is not lost. You can turn it around. But, for a moment...all will be well.....peaceful and sound." Alice. ~ Kathy Cyr

I might not have transferred to a new school, but it was still like I'd joined the world's oldest, grayest, least peppy cheerleading squad, and I was sick of being stuck in a castle like a prisoner myself with the whole lousy bunch of them.
"Garda! Vin aici!" I heard myself growling in a voice I'd never used before.
I wasn't sure where the words came from, either. They weren't on my DVD, but I must have heard Lucius summon the guards often enough that when I really needed to use the phrase it just came out, and both of the vampires who were posted at the doors stepped to my sides.
I didn't look around at the Elders - I wasn't about to stop glaring at my new worst enemy - but I heard murmurs again, like everybody was more surprised by my flawless Romanian than by my announcement about the trial.
I narrowed my eyes at Flaviu. "Well? Do you want to see how long you can last without blood? ~ Beth Fantaskey

The Missing Tile syndrome is ubiquitous. If you are overweight, all you see are flat stomachs and perfect physical specimens. If you have pimples, all you see is flawless skin. Women who have difficulty getting pregnant walk around seeing only pregnant women and babies. Nor do you need to be overweight, have pimples, be balding, or want a child to believe that you have a missing tile. You can allow any real - or merely perceived - flaw to diminish your happiness. ~ Dennis Prager

Your brother cooks because he wants to comfort people, to show them the pleasure their bodies are capable of experiencing, to make them pause and savor their own existence as they fly through life. You can see it in his face every time someone eats his food... And me? I do it because I want to save lives, take away suffering. Whatever the case, we want to change things around us. Because we want to matter, and we believe that our work makes us matter. The work isn't the end, it's the means for what we really want: to matter. ~ Sonali Dev

Zane helped Maya down from her horse, then reached for Phoebe. He was stunned when he felt her cold, soaked clothes.
"Run a bath," he yelled to the housekeeper. He turned back to Phoebe. "Can you feel your toes?"
"No, and I don't want to. They're going to hurt."
Maya came over and wrapped an arm around her. "Don't sweat it, Zane. I'll make sure she gets warmed up. See what happens when you cross a river. When I get back to the city, I'm not leaving my house for at least six weeks. And I'm going to spend all my time ordering things delivered. There will be no roughing it for me."
Phoebe shivered as she walked toward the house. "I liked it. It was all very exciting. Well, not the river, but the rest of it. Wasn't Manny brave? And he saved my life. I need to get him a gift. What do you think he'd like?"
"His balls back. ~ Susan Mallery

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"


I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Connecticut < ~ Wallace Stevens

Depending on the places we passed, the night around us shaded from ink black to red to purple to a washed-out yellow that hung like gauze in front of the dark, like you could see the dark sitting under the light, and then it would be back to ink black, and the air would change smells from sea salt to pine pulp to ammonia and burning oil. Trees and marshland crowded us and we passed over the Atchafalaya Basin, a long bridge suspended over a liquid murk, and I thought about the dense congestion of vines and forest when I was a kid, how the green and leafy things had seemed so full of shadows, and how it had felt like half the world was hidden in those shadows. ~ Nic Pizzolatto

Make love to me, Syn." Furi turned slightly and Syn captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. He didn't release Furi's mouth as he withdrew to the head of his dick and slowly slid back in, snapping his hips with the last inch. Furi's back bowed at the move. "Yes! Like that!" he shouted. Syn repeated it exactly how Furi liked it, keeping the pace slow and tight. The gentle waves that rocked the boat aided Syn's rhythm. Furi began to thrust his ass back against him and Syn's eyes rolled. "I'm gonna fuckin' come," Syn groaned, his voice sounding tortured, like Furi was killing him softly. "I need to see you." Syn pulled out slowly, gripping the base of his cock. He rose up so Furi could turn over. The look on Furi's face was his undoing. So much love and adoration shone back at him, reflecting his own feelings like a mirror. Furi spread his legs and Syn took one thigh and pulled it up high, wrapping it around his back. He locked eyes with his lover and buried back inside. "Unh. ~ A.E. Via

Can you see the pictures before you on how to intervene on behalf of the oppressed? Are you thinking of what to do to the disenfranchised of your society? Do you notice the abused of your society? Can you see the afflicted that are crying for that justice every day? What of those who are been maltreated on daily basis, do you think they need that justice? Did you see any of those who are downtrodden, would that justice help them? Anyone oppressed and suppressed around you, can you serve them justice? ~ Sunday Adelaja

1. Modern thinking is a mysterious entity, it is covered in blood and is two meters tall, its smile opens your soul to you and its smile descends to the earth and opens a portal to the dimension of eternal laughter, into a world without values.
2. Death from the dust of all the dead and dust of memories. Fear is all out of the darkness of the subconscious of billions of threads of manipulation.
3. Under the ordinary eye, the eye of anger. Under the eye of anger, the eye of despondency. Under the eye of despondency, the eye of insight of enlightenment of good and light, selfless nobleness.
4. The face tears up from laughter, and there is not flesh and soul, but a continuous smile of awareness.
5. Love is a sports scoreboard, the score of the one who loves more is kept.
6. Truth is a card. An illusion. You tilt a little, you see one, and you straighten up you see another.
7. Lust is erotic poker cards, poker for stripping the truth. Here you will win only loneliness.
8. Reality is a terrible dystopia of smiling optimism, with wired senses, with laughing monsters in your head, that is, your vices.
9. Wandering around in the midst of twilight darkness, the creative person revealed to the world what was hidden in the egg that lay in this fog, essences and monsters of the subconscious crawled out of it through the force field of imagination and depravity, through the force field they arise in the mind. Some in the imagination become prettier, ~ Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

That wasn't so bad," I decided, after downing the shot. Maybe I was getting my rhythm.
"Because you threw it over your shoulder," Scarface told me, looking smug.
"Did not." I looked behind me, only to see an outraged vamp with fey wine dripping down his face. "Oops."
"It was for luck," Ray said defensively, wrapping both my hands around a glass.
"Drink!"
I drank. ~ Karen Chance

Watching as Ryanne slides her pencil across the page. it looks like she is drawing a bird cage. inside the cage is a small detailed bird. the door of the bird cage is hanging open. Cursive writing wraps around the exterior of the cage. i lean closer a little to see what she wrote: if you love something, set it free.. ~ Kaitlyn Hoyt

Then I realized I just wanted you around. My days were better when they involved you. I enjoyed your thoughts. It was thrilling to see you discover magic. You had a mad hopefulness about sorcery that I have not felt in almost a decade. I started finding excuses to take you away, not because you needed my teaching but because, because I wanted to see you. I looked forward to our meetings and - like that, Vhalla - your opinion mattered to the crown prince of the Empire. You mattered for who you were, not for your magic and what some dusty texts say Windwalkers may or may not be able to do. ~ Elise Kova

The great man, Genghis Khan, only knew how to shoot eagles with an arrow. The past is past. To see real heroes, look around you. ~ Mao Tse-tung

Who exactly are we?' I asked.
The American Dreamers. There aren't too many of us left.'
I don't know if I qualify.'
You an American? Or want to be an American?'
I am an American.'
You said you were having a dream.'
It's true, I did.'
Was it the one where you're inside the girl and you are pumping her and pumping her and you are so happy but then it turns out it's not a girl, it's really one of those super poisonous box jellyfish, and it stings you and you are screaming and screaming and the sky rains the diarrhea of babies?'
The ... no, I don't think so.'
I get that sometimes. Anyway, see you around. ~ Sam Lipsyte

Zane walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a tin container with pencils in it. He rattled the pencils around in a circle, then reached into the tin to pull out a piece of chalk. Then he drew a circle on the wood floor around the chair Mary sat in.
"What are you doing?"
"At the end of my dream, I was very old. And I shed my skin. And I became something frightening that wasn't like me at all. If I come back, and I've turned into a monster, then you'll be safe from me in there."
"Oh, I don't like this." She felt a little punchy, a little giggly. "And then you're going off to the bathroom to pee? You're going to have to hold it." She held onto his hand. It was like her dad's hand, maybe even a bit older. The skin was soft, and thinner than her father's.
"No, really, I have to go." He pulled his hand.
She didn't let go. She giggled. "I'm not going to let you go. Not after you just said that to me."
Her giggling was a bit infectious. And he got the bug. He laughed. "But I have to go."
"Well, you shouldn't have said that first. 'I might turn into a horrible monster of which you should be so afraid that you'll remain in a chalk . . .'" She giggle-snorted. "'Chalk ring.' How's that going to help me?" She giggled again. "I'm having too much fun, Zane; I'm not going to let this turn into some horrible nightmare, because then I'm going to make myself wake up and I might never see you again."
They stared and stared at each other, the grins fro ~ James T. Riley

She jumped. "You walk like a cat!"
"I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest. "See?"
Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?"
"No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?"
"Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off.
But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her. ~ Nalini Singh

I looked around and acknowledged that what you see around you is proof of what exists within you. ~ Adam Braun

Wardress in a prison,was she, that old hippopotamus? That is significant, perhaps."
Sarah said:
"You mean that that is the cause of her tyranny? It is the habit of her former profession."
Gerard shook his head.
"No, that is approaching it from the wrong angle. There is some deep underlying compulsion. She does not love tyranny because she has been a wardress. Let us rather say that she became a wardress because she loved tyranny. In my theory it was a secret desire for power over other human beings that led her to adopt that profession."
His face was very grave.
"There are such strange things buried down in the unconscious. A lust for power - a lust for cruelty - a savage desire to tear and rend - all the inheritance of our past racial memories...They are all there, Miss King, all the cruelty and savagery and lust...We shut the door on them and deny them conscious life, but sometimes - they are too strong."
Sarah shivered. "I know."
Gerard continued: "We see it all around us today - in political creeds, in the conduct of nations. A reaction from humanitarianism - from pity - from brotherly good-will. The creeds sound well sometimes - a wise régime - a beneficent government - but imposed by force - resting on a basis of cruelty and fear. They are opening the door, these apostles of violence, they are letting up the old savagery, the old delight in cruelty for its own sake! Oh, it is difficult - Man is an animal very delicately balanced. ~ Agatha Christie

There is no position so critical, no office so important, that the occasional, and even the more than occasional, utter incompetent will not wind up filling it. Heart surgeons, popes, presidents, it makes no difference. Look around and you will see an existence replete with people who are betraying, in a most egregious manner, the powers and responsibilities that have been entrusted to them. ~ Daniel Polansky

Tortolita, let me tell you a story," Estevan said. "This is a South American, wild Indian story about heaven and hell." Mrs. Parsons made a prudish face, and Estevan went on. "If you go visit hell, you will see a room like this kitchen. There is a pot of delicious stew on the table, with the most delicate aroma you can imagine. All around, people sit, like us. Only they are dying of starvation. They are jibbering and jabbering," he looked extra hard at Mrs. Parsons, "but they cannot get a bit of this wonderful stew God has made for them. Now, why is that?"

"Because they're choking? For all eternity?" Lou Ann asked. Hell, for Lou Ann, would naturally be a place filled with sharp objects and small round foods.

"No," he said. "Good guess, but no. They are starving because they only have spoons with very long handles. As long as that." He pointed to the mop, which I had forgotten to put away. "With these ridiculous, terrible spoons, the people in hell can reach into the pot but they cannot put the food in their mouths. Oh, how hungry they are! Oh, how they swear and curse each other!" he said, looking again at Virgie. He was enjoying this.

"Now," he went on, "you can go and visit heaven. What? You see a room just like the first one, the same table, the same pot of stew, the same spoons as long as a sponge mop. But these people are all happy and fat."

"Real fat, or do you mean just well-fed?" Lou Ann asked.

"Just well-fed," he ~ Barbara Kingsolver

Prosperity Gospel". At his United Church Science of Living Institute in New York he would tell his congregation "close your eyes and see green. Money up to your armpits, a roomful of money and there you are, just tossing around in it like a swimming pool. ~ Reverend Ike

The landscape changes, so enjoy it: of course, you have to have an objective in mind - to reach the top. But as you are going up, more things can be seen, and it's no bother to stop now and again and enjoy the panorama around you. At every meter conquered, you can see a little further, so use this to discover things that you still had not noticed. ~ Paulo Coelho

And modern houses don't have passages, either, for children to play and run about in, and for dogs, umbrellas, coats and satchels. And don't forget that passages and corridors are where the young ones curl up and go to sleep when they're tired, and where you go and collect them to put them to bed. That's where they go when they're four years old and have had enough of the grown-ups and their philosophy. That's where, when they're unsure of themselves, they go and have a quiet cry.

Houses never have enough room for children, not even if they're castles. Children don't actually look at houses, but they know them and all their nooks and crannies better than their mothers do. They rummage about. They snoop around. They don't consciously look at houses any more than they look at the walls of flesh that enclose them before they can see anything at all - but they know them. It's when they leave the house that they look at it. ~ Marguerite Duras

I've found that often the quality you see in successful people is knowing when to take the initiative, and being quick about it. I've never sat around, waiting for someone to tell me to take charge. I just do it. ~ R.K. Lilley

You shouldn't pull out the chair for me, or even open doors for me," she told him.
He pulled back slightly to look at her, his face only inches from hers. Even in the dim light, she could see that his eyes were brown and only brown. There were no flecks of gold or green, just one single, deep shade of chocolate.
He studied her intensely then leaned toward her again, his breath warm against her neck as he spoke. "You don't think Alice Plotkin deserves that kind of respect?"
"She's supposed to be invisible."
"She's not invisible to me."
Again, he pulled back, and the warmth in his eyes seemed to heat her from within. His gaze flicked down to her mouth, and Alessandra knew with complete certainty that he was going to kiss her. In just a moment, he was going to pull her toward him and kiss her. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more.
Cutting his hair had been torture. He'd sat there, without a shirt on, Ace bandage around his ribs, obliviously sexy. She'd touched the hard muscles on his shoulders and back more than once, using the lame excuse of brushing cut hair off him.
Sometimes - okay, more than sometimes - the hair had been imaginary.
Touching Harry was like touching electricity. She hadn't wanted to stop. His hair was so soft and thick, his skin silk over steel. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

Turning down this invitation comes in lots of flavors. It looks like numbing yourself or distracting yourself or seeing something really beautiful as just normal. It can also look like refusing to forgive or not being grateful or getting wrapped around the axle with fear or envy. I think every day God sends us an invitation to live and sometimes we forget to show up or get head-fakes into thinking we haven't really been invited. But you see, we have been invited - every day, all over again. ~ Bob Goff

And, after all, isn't that what life is all about, the ability to go around back and come up inside other people's heads to look out at the damned fool miracle and say: oh, so that's how you see it!? Well, now, I must remember that. ~ Ray Bradbury

It's important to pull tons of pieces! If you have lots of options to choose from, you can play around and see that things that you wouldn't originally have expected to work together actually do! That applies to both clothing and decorating. ~ Jeremiah Brent

And I've got THIS," I pulled out the signum and held it up for him to see, "that says I'm kindred. And I've got THIS," I pointed at my head, "that says I'm as smart as you. And I have THIS," I held up my middle finger, "that says go to hell, you immortal bigot."
And with that I spun around and stomped out the door, filing the expression on Arthur's face in a mental folder labeled "Kate's Proudest Moments". ~ Amy Plum

The thing that makes you know that Vernon Ward is a good painter is if you look at his ducks, you can see the eyes follow you around the room. ~ Peter Cook

We drove 22 miles into the country around Farmington. There were meadows and apple orchards. White fences trailed through the rolling fields. Soon the sign started appearing. THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED BARN IN AMERICA. We counted five signs before we reached the site. There were 40 cars and a tour bus in the makeshift lot. We walked along a cowpath to the slightly elevated spot set aside for viewing and photographing. All the people had cameras; some had tripods, telephoto lenses, filter kits. A man in a booth sold postcards and slides -- pictures of the barn taken from the elevated spot. We stood near a grove of trees and watched the photographers. Murray maintained a prolonged silence, occasionally scrawling some notes in a little book.

"No one sees the barn," he said finally.

A long silence followed.

"Once you've seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn."

He fell silent once more. People with cameras left the elevated site, replaced by others.

We're not here to capture an image, we're here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack? An accumulation of nameless energies."

There was an extended silence. The man in the booth sold postcards and slides.

"Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender. We see only what the others see. The thousands who were here in the past, those who will come in the future. We've agreed to be part of a collect ~ Don DeLillo

Take this neat little equation here. It tells me all the ways an electron can make itself comfortable in or around an atom. That's the logic of it. The poetry of it is that the equation tells me how shiny gold is, how come rocks are hard, what makes grass green, and why you can't see the wind. And a million other things besides, about the way nature works. ~ Richard Feynman

At the end of an evening, her women friends would hug her, or a friend's husband might slip his arm around her waist to kiss her, just a little too suggestively, and the coldness in her would respond, I don't give a damn if I ever see any of you again. ~ Jennifer Egan

And as the Moon eclipsed,
sulking in envy, he wailed to the Earth
"I wonder how you could never see,
My deep Love for you - illuminating, beautifying your world when the
Sun leaves you hurled...

But despite it all,
you still revolve around the Sun,
who shuns you here in the dark,
half the run."

The Earth confessed with teary eyes
still retaining a smile
"It is not the Sun that leaves me,
It is me who turns away, blocking his light.
But yet his love for me is far more magnanimous,
for he lights you up to render me luminous."

Cosmic Love ~ Drishti Bablani