How To See Someone Quotes

When you are looking at a person, you are not seeing him; you are seeing yourself through his reflective mirror. ~ Debasish Mridha

I'd be more than happy to let you survey my physical perfection in its entirety. But only if I get to see you, too." To her shocked silence, he replied, "It's only fair. Tit for tat."

"How is that fair? You've seen countless tits. ~ Tessa Dare

And don't call me 'my lord.' That's what servants do. You're my fiancée, remember?" He sounded irritated. "I'll call you Maria, and you should probably call me by my Christian name-Oliver."
An unusual name for an English lord. "Where you named after the playwright, Oliver Goldsmith?"
"Alas, no. I was named after the Puritan, Oliver Cromwell."
"You're joking."
"Afraid not. My father thought it amusing, considering his own…er…tendency toward debauchery."
Lord help her, the man's very name was a jab at respectability. Meanwhile, his estate could probably hold the entire town of Dartmouth!
A sudden panic seized her. How could she pretend to be the fiancée of a man who owned a house like that?
"I was named after King Frederick," Freddy put in.
"Which one?" asked Lord Stoneville. Oliver.
"There's more than one?" Freddy asked.
"There's at least ten," the marquess said dryly.
Freddy knit his brow. "I'm not sure which one."
When humor glinted in Oliver's eyes, Maria said, "I think Aunt Rose was aiming for a generally royal-sounding name."
"That's it," Freddy put in. "Just a King Frederick in general."
"I see," Oliver said solemnly, though his lips had a decided twitch. His gaze flicked to her. "What about you? Which Maria are you named after?"
"The Virgin Mary, of course," Freddy said.
"Of course," Oliver said, eyes gleaming. "I should have known."
"We're Catholic," Freddy added.
"My mother was C ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Just once how I'd like to see the headline say, not much to print today, can't find anything bad to say. ~ Anne Murray

Do you want me, Shea?" This time his voice was hesitant, as if for all his strength, for all his power, one word from her would bring him crashing down. He was kneeling at her feet, his beloved face - so ravaged by torment, so beautifully male, so sensually Carpathian - staring up at her. He was lost without her; it was there for her to see. Raw. Stark. His total vulnerability. For just one moment the wind seemed to cease, and the storm held itself still as if the very skies were awaiting her answer.
"You can't possibly know how much I want you, Jacques, even if you're reading my mind. ~ Christine Feehan

It would go a long way to caution and direct people in their use of the world that they would better studied and known in the creation of it. For how could man find the confidence to abuse it, while they should see the Great Creator stare them in the face, in all and every part thereof? ~ William Penn

Because Rhy didn't need his protection, not anymore, and he'd only told a partial truth when he said they both needed this.
The whole truth was, Rhy needed it more.
Because Kell had given him a gift he did not want, could never repay.
He'd always envied his brother 's strength.
And now, in a horrible way, it was his.
He was immortal.
And he hated it.
And he hated that he hated it. Hated that he'd become the thing he never wanted to be, a burden to his brother, a source of pain and suffering, a prison. Hated that if he'd had a choice, he would have said no. Hated that he was grateful he hadn't had a choice, because he wanted to live, even if he didn't deserve to.
But most of all, Rhy hated the way his living changed how Kell lived, the way his brother moved through life as if it were suddenly fragile. The black stone, and whatever lived inside it, and for a time in Kell, had changed his brother, woken something restless, something reckless. Rhy wanted to shout, to shake Kell and tell him not to shy away from danger on his account, but charge toward it, even if it meant getting hurt.
Because Rhy deserved that pain.
He could see his brother suffocating beneath the weight of it. Of him.
And he hated it.
And this gesture - this foolish, mad, dangerous gesture - was the best he could do.
The most he could do. ~ V.E. Schwab

I come not, Ambrosia for any of the purposes thou hast named," replied Marcela, "but to defend myself and to prove how unreasonable are all those who blame me for their sorrow and for Chrysostom's death; and therefore I ask all of you that are here to give me your attention, for will not take much time or many words to bring the truth home to persons of sense. Heaven has made me, so you say, beautiful, and so much so that in spite of yourselves my beauty leads you to love me; and for the love you show me you say, and even urge, that I am bound to love you. By that natural understanding which God has given me I know that everything beautiful attracts love, but I cannot see how, by reason of being loved, that which is loved for its beauty is bound to love that which loves it; besides, it may happen that the lover of that which is beautiful may be ugly, and ugliness being detestable, it is very absurd to say, "I love thee because thou art beautiful, thou must love me though I be ugly." But supposing the beauty equal on both sides, it does not follow that the inclinations must be therefore alike, for it is not every beauty that excites love, some but pleasing the eye without winning the affection; and if every sort of beauty excited love and won the heart, the will would wander vaguely to and fro unable to make choice of any; for as there is an infinity of beautiful objects there must be an infinity of inclinations, and true love, I have heard it said, is indivisible, and must be ~ Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

Nonviolent coercion always brings tension to the surface. This tension, however, must not be seen as destructive. There is a kind of tension that is both healthy and necessary for growth. Society needs nonviolent gadflies to bring its tensions into the open and force its citizens to confront the ugliness of their prejudices and the tragedy of their racism.

It is important for the liberal to see that the oppressed person who agitates for his rights is not the creator of tension....How strange it would be to condemn a physician who, through persistent work and the ingenuity of his medical skills, discovered cancer in a patient. Would anyone be so ignorant as to say he caused the cancer? Through the skills and discipline of direct action we reveal that there is a dangerous cancer of hatred and racism in our society. We did not cause the cancer; we merely exposed it. Only through this kind of exposure will the cancer be cured. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Mark is the one thing in this world that I love enough to write a million words about... he is the one I am obsessive about recording. I want you to love him as much as I do. I want you to see him how I see him. Yes, he has flaws and, yes, I put my blinders on when looking at those flaws... but I feel compelled to immortalize our story - his story. ~ Christopher X. Sullivan

For one poignant moment, my mom and I lock eyes, and I realize how much I look like her, how much I love her and how much I have always longed for her to truly see me. ~ Wendy Heard

How would it feel, if you cared for such a person, to watch his complete retreat? To see him day in and out, yet never converse again? To know that he could speak to you if he chose to, but won't? ~ Karen Marie Moning

I always think that the writer is doing the vast majority of the director's work, in a sense. If you're a writer who is also going to direct, you're doing all your preparation: You're already visualizing everything, you're imagining how the lines are going to be read, you see the blocking in your head, and you know the rhythm and the pacing. ~ Harold Ramis

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel

Remembering
You standing quiet in the rain
As I ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed as the sky fell in
Holding you close
How I always held close in your fear
Remembering
You running soft through the night
You were bigger and brighter and wider than snow
And screamed at the make-believe
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage
To let it all go

Remembering
You fallen into my arms
Crying for the death of your heart
You were stone white
So delicate
Lost in the cold
You were always so lost in the dark
Remembering
You how you used to be
Slow drowned
You were angels
So much more than everything
Hold for the last time then slip away quietly
Open my eyes
But I never see anything

If only I'd thought of the right words
I could have held on to your heart
If only I'd thought of the right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart
All my pictures of you

Looking so long at these pictures of you
But I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true
But always just breaking apart
My pictures of you
< ~ Boris Williams

She bewitches you," Trevanion said. "And she is yours for the taking. Any fool can see that. So take her and get whatever needs to be gotten out of your system."
...
"Maybe you are right, Trevanion," he said, turning back to his father. "But it is her hope that bewitches me, and that hope I may never get out of my system, no matter how many times she's to be gotten. Can you not see it burning in her eyes? Does it not make you want to look away when you have none to give in return? Her hope fills me with ... something other than this dull weight I wake with each morning. ~ Melina Marchetta

Sometimes we have to fall to know how to stand back up. Sometimes we have to hurt people to recognize our flaws and to see that we need to better ourselves. ~ E.K. Blair

Breathlessly you reach the station just as the train is arriving! But alas, the train doesn't stop. It keeps going. It doesn't care how forlorn you look as it passes by. It doesn't even see you! But wait. What's that sound in the distance? Another train is coming soon and it is yours. A train that will take you to a more beautiful place. ~ Kate McGahan

When asked the secret of how to look at the world afresh, with delighted eyes, Merlin said, You lack innocence. Having labeled a thing, you no longer see that thing, you see its label instead. ~ Deepak Chopra

Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass.
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet-cakes and milkshakes
I'm a delusion angel
I'm a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Lodged in life
Like branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I carry you, You'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now? ~ Before Sunrise

July 8, 2013
Review of Bargain with the Devil
Author: Gloria Gravitt Moulder
My interest in the death of Margaret Mitchell was sparked as a young child growing up in Georgia. I was born in 1953, 4 years after her death. Older relatives, neighbors and friends would sit around discussing her death as I was growing up and with the inquisitive mind of a young child; I found what they were saying interesting enough to listen in. They talked about how the taxi cab driver, Hugh Gravitt, (some of which knew him as this was a small southern town where everyone knew everyone) was not a drinker because of his health and how the newspaper articles had written he was drunk and speeding when it wasn't true. I overheard many things about how the media was wrong regarding the circumstances of her death. Some speculated she committed suicide; others suspected her husband pushed her in front of the car Mr. Gravitt was driving. All commented that both Margaret and John were drunk and jaywalking across Peachtree Street.
I read the book (Gone with the Wind) when I was 13 and went to see the movie in 1969 at the Fox theatre with friends. I cannot relate how this impacted me. I became interested in all I heard as a child again and over the years have read many articles on the subject of Margaret Mitchell and John Marsh. I never believed the stories about Hugh Gravitt being at fault in her death as a result of all those conversations I had overheard by my elders as a child.
~ Gloria Gravitt Moulder

The music consumed in its blatant rhythm all other rhythms, even that of the heartbeat. I wondered how all this would look to the casual observer, or to the whites in their homes. "The niggers are whooping it up over on Mobile Street tonight," they might say. "They're happy." Or, as one scholar put it, "Despite their lowly status, they are capable of living jubilantly." Would they see the immense melancholy that hung over the quarter, so oppressive that men had to dull their sensibilities in noise or wine or sex or gluttony in order to escape it? The laughter had to be gross or it would turn to sobs, and to sob would be to realize, and to realize would be to despair. So the noise poured forth like a jazzed-up fugue, louder and louder to cover the whisper in every man's soul. "You are black. You are condemned." This is what the white man mistook for "jubilant living" and called "whooping it up." This is how the white man can say, "They live like dogs," never realizing why they must, to save themselves, shout, get drunk, shake the hip, pour pleasures into bellies deprived of happiness. Otherwise, the sounds from the quarter would lose order and rhythm and become wails. ~ John Howard Griffin

I love you, Gideon."
"God." He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn't know. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's the truth."
"You just see this" - he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. "You're not seeing the fucked-up, broken mess inside."
I inhaled sharply. "You can say that to me? When you know I'm fucked up and broken, too? ~ Sylvia Day

Break open the cherry tree: where are the blossoms? Just wait for spring time to see how they bloom. ~ Ikkyu

Suddenly the clouds seem high above us. They're moving over us in an arch, circling the planet. They have seen abysmal oceans and charred, scorched islands. They have seen how we destroyed the world. If I could see everything, as the clouds do, would I swirl around this remaining continent, still so full of color and life and seasons, wanting to protect it? Or would I just laugh at the futility of it all, and meander onward, down the earth's sloping atmosphere? ~ Lauren DeStefano

It is surprising to see how often the worst people in the world - rapists interviewed in prison, say - see themselves as the real victims. They are wrong to see themselves as innocents, but we are wrong as well to see them as different creatures from the rest of us. If you want to think about evil, real evil, a better way to proceed is this: Don't think about what other people have done to you; think instead about your own actions that hurt others, that made others want you to apologize and make amends. Don't think about other nations' atrocities toward your country and its allies; think instead about the actions of your country that other people rage against. Your ~ Paul Bloom

In the Muslim world, this notion that somehow everything is the fault of the Israelis lacks balance - because there's two sides to every question. That doesn't mean that sometimes one side has done something wrong and should not be condemned. But it does mean there's always two sides to an issue. I say the same thing to my Jewish friends, which is you have to see the perspective of the Palestinians. Learning to stand in somebody else's shoes to see through their eyes, that's how peace begins. And it's up to you to make that happen. ~ Barack Obama

I don't know how many of you have been to New York, but if a building is two blocks away from anything, you can't see it. ~ Al Franken

Maybe he was as mad as he said he was, but she could see only a species of miserable fright. Suddenly, like the thud of a boxing glove on her mouth, she saw how close to the edge of everything he was. The agency was tottering, that was bad enough, and now, on top of that, like a grisly dessert following a putrid main course, his marriage was tottering too. She felt a rush of warmth for him, for this man she had sometimes hated and had, for the last three hours at least, feared. A kind of epiphany filled her. Most of all, she hoped he would always think he had been as mad as hell, and not ... not the way his face said he felt. ~ Stephen King

It's impossible to know you and not see how incredible you are. ~ Nyrae Dawn

As for major obstacles keeping young Latinos from becoming filmmakers, I think our communities are still coming into their identities as storytellers. It's such an important identity to reclaim - it's how our ancestors kept our cultures alive. But a long history of silencing, invisibility, and marginalization has kept generations of Latinos from believing in themselves, from seeing themselves as agents of their own lives. I think there needs to be a focus on this aspect to help cultivate young Latinas to see themselves as cultural producers and defenders. ~ Aurora Guerrero

We were in a great, seething moment in the 1970s. There was a new Labour government and everything seemed full of hope ... But, as we got older and we saw how much women's behaviour contributed to what was wrong, we stopped being able to see ourselves purely as. ~ Helen Garner

Pixie was still looking a little shell-shocked when they walked over to the desk. "This is Pixie, our studio manager. She'll take your details when you're ready."
"Hey, Pixie, pleased to meet you."
Trent had never seen Pixie so inanimate. She didn't move to take the hand Dred had offered.
"Pix?" Trent smirked as she quickly collected herself with a shake of her head, reaching her hand out.
"Sorry. Miles away. Welcome to Second Circle."
"Nice tattoo you got there, Pixie. What are those?"
"Flowers," she mumbled. What the hell was up with Pixie? They'd had famous people in the studio before.
Dred laughed. "I can see that. I was curious what kind."
The phone rang and Pixie jumped all over it, effectively cutting Dred off.
"Sorry," Trent apologized. "Fortunately, we're generally pretty busy here. Want to take a seat and we can figure out what you're looking for?"
Trent started to walk to one of the beds toward the back of the studio. "We have a setup in the room back here if you want a bit more privacy."
Realizing Dred was no longer with him, he turned to see him still staring at Pixie's back.
"Hey dude," he whispered, "we charge extra for checking out the staff's asses."
"What? Oh … right, yeah. How much? I'd definitely pay extra for a closer view. ~ Scarlett Cole

Jesus spoke in parables not only to disclose truth but also to disclose the heart of the listener, to see how much that listener wanted to pursue the truth. - Ravi Zacharias, "Reaching the Happy Thinking Pagan ~ Richard P. Hansen

I'm just as ambitious as ever. Only I've changed the object of my ambitions. I'm going to be a good teacher- and I'm going to study at home here and take a little college course all by myself. Oh, I've dozens of plans Marilla. I've been thinking them out for a week and I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queens my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see ti along for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own that bind, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes - what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows - what new landscapes- what new beauties - what curves and hills and valley's further on. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Get back in the box. Set it for home, present day. Go see your mom. Bring your dad. Have dinner, the three of you. Go find The Woman You Never Married and see if she might want to be The Woman You Are Going To Marry Someday. Step out of this box. Pop open the hatch. The forces within the chronohydraulic air lock will equalize. Step out into the world of time and risk and loss again. Move forward, into the emily plane. Find the book you wrote, and read it until the end, but don't turn the last page yet, keep stalling, see how long you can keep expanding the infinitely expandable moment. Enjoy the elastic present, which can accommodate as little or as much as you want to put in there. Stretch it out, live inside of it. ~ Charles Yu

America needs no words from me to see how your decision in Roe v. Wade has deformed a great nation. The so-called right to abortion has pitted mothers against their children and women against men. ~ Mother Teresa

Privately there were some things in Heaven of which she did not approve. There was too much singing, and she didn't see how even the Elect could survive for very long the celestial laziness which was promised. She would find something to do in Heaven. There must be something to take up one's time – some clouds to darn, some weary wings to rub with liniment. Maybe the collars of the robes needed turning now and then, and when you come right down to it, she couldn't believe that even in heaven there would not be cobwebs in some corner to be knocked down with a cloth-covered broom. ~ John Steinbeck

But I'm not a serpent, I tell you!" said Alice. "I'm a
I'm a
."
"Well! What are you?" said the Pigeon. "I can see you're trying to invent something!"
"I- I'm a little girl," said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day ...
... "How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one munute to another! However, I've got back to my right size: the next thing is, to get into that beautiful garden- how is that to be done, I wonder? ~ Lewis Carroll

I think I must be smiling at him because he's smiling at me, but he's smiling like he might be petrified; he's breathing like he's forgotten he's supposed to, looking at me like he's not sure how to do this, hesitating like he's unsure how to let me see him like this. Like he has no idea how to be so vulnerable.
But here he is.
And here I am. ~ Tahereh Mafi