Pointing Quotes

Whiskey, glass, pour, toss back, glare. Repeat. "Cop out," I slurred in retaliation, pointing the empty glass at Peter.
"Don't get drunk. Fuck. I need you sober," he yelled, snatching the glass out of my hand.
"There's the problem right there. You need me sober. You need my help. You need something from me." I laughed, tossing the bottle on the sofa, ignoring the glug glug glug as it emptied over my cushions. "And I just need you."
"Need me to what?" He asked with a huff, tipping the bottle right-side up.
"Nothing. I just need you," I whispered and flopped into a nearby recliner. ~ Dani Alexander

Its like a finger pointing away to the moon. Dont concentrate on the finger or you will miss all that heavenly glory. ~ Bruce Lee

When the injunction was issued in Birmingham, our failure to obey it bewildered our opponents. They did not know what to do. We did not hide our intentions. In fact, I announced our plan to the press, pointing out that we were not anarchists advocating lawlessness, but that it was obvious to us that the courts of Alabama had misused the judicial process in order to perpetuate injustice and segregation. Consequently, we could not, in good conscience, obey their findings. I intended to be one of the first to set ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Whenever two unbelievers quarrel, the may both say some very insightful things about the unsightly habits of the other.
The postmodernists are very good at pointing out the pretensions of the modernists. And the modernists are very good at pointing out the incoherence of the postmodernists. ~ Douglas Wilson

The big challenge for me was just trying to ignore the embarrassment of being an actor. It's a pretty embarrassing thing to do. You've got people pointing cameras at you and hundreds of people watching you, as you're trying to be great. And often, almost every time, you're not. ~ Chris Pratt

But when you walk through yonder gate," Churchill said, pointing toward the Middle Tower at the end of the causeway, which was visible only as a crenellated cutout in the orange sky, "you'll find yourself in a London you no longer know. The changes wrought by the Fire were nothing. In that London, loyalty and allegiance are subtle and fluxional. 'Tis a chessboard with not only black and white pieces, but others as well, in diverse shades. You're a Bishop, and I'm a Knight, I can tell that much by our shapes, and the changes we have wrought on the board; but by fire-light 'Tis difficult to make out your true shade. ~ Neal Stephenson

I think that maps showing platform details would be useful to visitors, especially to chaperones of school groups, etc. Also useful would be either a compass rose or an arrow pointing North at every metro exit. Emerging from underground is disorienting, especially at night. ~ Robert James Thomson

People would always say horror movies always thrive during times of war; that's just what people would say. And I don't know if they thrived during World War II or Vietnam, but I thought that's kind of strange, why would that happen. I don't know if people rearrange their priorities; in good times, they freak out and start pointing the fingers at video games and TV, but when horrible things are happening in the world, it [horror movie] just seems a little ridiculous. ~ Rob Zombie

It's funny, the roles we play, the way we have to give up the old ones before we have room for the new ones. The first-first love stuff never goes away in here" she said, pointing to her head. "It makes you who you are. But in here," putting her hand on her chest, "time lets that grow and change. You'll see ~ Kristen-Paige Madonia

We live in a society where people are often more offended by those who point out child abuse than by the abuse itself. In other words, society does not view abuse as the problem; the problem is you pointing it out. Society's basic mindset is that "If we don't talk about abuse, then it's not happening." Similarly, children are attacked when they point out the dysfunction around them. ~ Darius Cikanavicius

It is worth pointing out that feeling things (which usually means feeling them painfully) is at some level linked to the acquisition of knowledge. ~ Alain De Botton

A woman once of some height, she is bent small, and the lingering strands of black look dirty in her white hair. She carries a cane, but in forgetfulness, perhaps, hangs it over her forearm and totters along with it dangling loose like an outlandish bracelet. Her method of gripping her gardener is this: he crooks his right arm, pointing his elbow toward her shoulder, and she shakily brings her left forearm up within his and bears down heavily on his wrist with her lumpish freckled fingers. Her hold is like that of a vine to a wall; one good pull will destroy it, but otherwise it will survive all weathers. ~ John Updike

Cort Lindahl discovered that the Great Pyramid [points to] Mecca and wrote about it in his books. And I hereby shed more light onto that by revealing that it even points to almost the same direction which the Black Stone points at! The Black Stone is located at the Kaaba's eastern corner; the corner from which the rotation of the pilgrimage around the Kaaba starts. It is as if the facade in front of the low wall of the Kaaba were pointing to the Great Pyramid's direction, or more accurately, the Great Pyramid does indeed point at the exact direction by which the Kaaba was mounted. ~ Ibrahim Ibrahim

Look, Father, I don't think you're being straight with me. I want to join your Church and I'm going to join your Church, but you're holding too much back. I've had a long talk with a Catholic-a very pious, well-educated one, and I've learned a thing or two. For instance, that you have to sleep with your feet pointing East because that's the direction of heaven, and if you die in the night you can walk there. Now I'll sleep with my feet pointing any way that suits Julia, but d'you expect a grown man to believe about walking to heaven? And what about the Pope who made one of his horses a Cardinal? And what about the box you keep in the church porch, and if you put in a pound note with someone's name on it, they get sent to hell. I don't say there mayn't be a good reason for all this, but you ought to tell me about it and not let me find out for myself. ~ Evelyn Waugh

People were always pointing the finger at the fast food industry. And I was a big fan of personal responsibility - you know, no one is forcing you to eat. We're not geese being stuffed with corn. ~ Morgan Spurlock

They recognize me. Of course they recognize me. My face is uncovered and I'm standing here outside of District 12 pointing an arrow at them. Who else would I be? ~ Suzanne Collins

Why are these historical observations interesting?...they suggest that we should be careful about attributing our distinction between philosophy and science to earlier thinkers…The examples I have given do raise an interesting question: Why is it that we tend to see such a radical break between philosophy and science, and, more important, should we? The question can be raised directly, without the need for history, as Quine has done. But history brings the point home in an especially clear way: It shows us an assumption we take for granted by pointing out that it is not an assumption everyone makes. ~ Daniel Garber

Day's mouth watered at the fully erect eight inches of cut cock pointing toward him, just begging to be licked, sucked, and fucked; Day was just the man for the job. ~ A.E. Via

Knowledge [...] no longer consists in a manipulation of man and nature as opposite forces, nor in the reduction of data to mere statistical order, but is a means of liberating mankind from the destructive power of fear, pointing the way toward the goal of the rehabilitation of the human will and the rebirth of faith and confidence in the human person. ~ Ruth Nanda Anshen

What has interested me all along is not the pronouncement of meaning but pointing toward the way meaning is formed. ~ Douglas Huebler

She might be pointing to a doorway, or a person, or the sky. But such things were so common to my eyes, so undistinguished, that they would register as "nothing" I walked in a gray world of nothing. ~ Jerry Spinelli

Vane pulled out his wallet and handed several hundred dollar bills to Henri. "Do me a favor. That guy downstairs Taylor. Give him the worst table in the house."
Henri's eyes danced with amusement. "For you, Mr. Kattalakis, anything." Vane took his seat as Henri walked off.
"That was so bad of you," she said with a coy smile.
"Do you want me to take it back?"
"Hardly. I was merely pointing out that it was bad."
"What can I say? I'm just a big bad wolf. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Point the way,' he was talking in metaphorical terms. This pointing-hand gesture - with its index finger and thumb extended upward - is a well-known symbol of the Ancient Mysteries, and it appears ~ Dan Brown

My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is said that "for yesterday, today, and tomorrow they have only one word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday forward for tomorrow, and overhead for the passing day." This was sheer idleness to my fellow-townsmen, no doubt; but if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should not have been found wanting. ~ Henry David Thoreau

KID: [Whispering, pointing at Avery.] Mom, why is that girl here alone? MOM: I'm sure her parents are nearby. Don't worry about it. KID: [Shouting, as I turned to walk Avery to the stacks.] ARE YOU AN ORPHAN? ~ Gina Sheridan

No, that's wrong," Rosa said, pointing at Dex who was sliding his fist in and out of the puppet, making moaning noises. "Ooh, yeah, you like that don't you. ~ Anonymous

Just follow that line forever," said the Mathemagician, "and when you reach the end, turn left. There you'll find the land of Infinity, where the tallest, the shortest, the biggest, the smallest, and the most and least of everything are kept."
"I don't have that much time," said Milo anxiously. "isn't there a quicker way?"
"Well, you might try this flight of stairs," he suggested, opening another door and pointing up."It goes there, too. ~ Norton Juster

Caitlyn, s'il vous plait!" Madame said, whacking the blackboard with her stick, its end pointing to the irregular verb devoir, "to have to." She
wanted Caitlyn to conjugate it.
Caitlyn felt the class's attention turn to her, and a clammy sweat broke out in her armpits. Her brain stopped in its tracks, unable to move under
the pressure. A vague sense of having known how to speak French in her dreams tickled at her brain, but the skill was as lost to her in the waking
world as was Raphael.
"Devoir," Caitlyn croaked. "Er. Je dev? Tu dev?"
Madame gaped at her, horrified.
Caitlyn shook her head; she knew those words were wrong. "Er … I mean, uh …" And then out of nowhere came, "Egli deve, lei dovrebbe …"
These words felt right. He must, she must …
Several girls burst into laughter.
"What?" Caitlyn demanded.
"You're speaking Italian!" one girl shrieked, and collapsed into hysterical giggles. ~ Lisa Cach

Actually, the "leap of faith" - to give it the memorable name that Soren Kierkegaard bestowed upon it - is an imposture. As he himself pointed out, it is not a "leap" that can be made once and for all. It is a leap that has to go on and on being performed, in spite of mounting evidence to the contrary. This effort is actually too much for the human mind, and leads to delusions and manias. Religion understands perfectly well that the "leap" is subject to sharply diminishing returns, which is why it often doesn't in fact rely on "faith" at all but instead corrupts faith and insults reason by offering evidence and pointing to confected "proofs." This evidence and these proofs include arguments from design, revelations, punishments, and miracles. Now that religion's monopoly has been broken, it is within the compass of any human being to see these evidences and proofs as the feeble-minded inventions that they are. ~ Christopher Hitchens

But . . ." Dominic floundered around for a bit before pointing at me accusingly. "You said that there's weird shit, but it normally turns out to have a rational explanation."
"It does," said Beverley. "The explanation is a wizard did it. ~ Ben Aaronovitch

What is that?" I asked, pointing at the ceiling.
Part of me didn't expect Aiden to answer, but he did. "It's Phoebe's symbol."
"Phoebe? Obviously you don't mean a Charmed one."
He snorted. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

By slow but sure degrees, the terrors of that hateful corner swell until they beset him at all times; invade his rest, make his dreams hideous, and his nights dreadful. At first, he took a strange dislike to it; feeling as though it gave birth in his brain to something of corresponding shape, which ought not to be there, and racked his head with pains. Then he began to fear it, then to dream of it, and of men whispering its name and pointing to it. Then he could not bear to look at it, nor yet to turn his back upon it. Now, it is every night the lurking-place of a ghost: a shadow: - a silent something, horrible to see, but whether bird, or beast, or muffled human shape, he cannot tell. ~ Charles Dickens

The music played, always pointing to the light, to the way out, or the way in, to individualism, ~ Morrissey

A spiritual teaching is a finger pointing toward Reality; it is not Reality itself. To be in a true and mature relationship with a spiritual teaching requires you to apply it, not simply believe in it. Belief leads to various forms of fundamentalism and shuts down the curiosity and inquiry that are essential to open the way for awakening and what lies beyond awakening. A good spiritual teaching is something that you work with and apply. In doing so, it works on you (often in a hidden way) and helps reveal to you the Truth (and falseness) that lies within you. ~ Adyashanti

I want to see her naked, " Mengele said pointing to Marlene. She cried and shock. My mother flung her body in front of Marlene's and said, "You can't have her. I love her, my daughter." My father said, "Take the younger one. She's smarter, " as he pushed me over forward.
Marlene cried because father said I was smarter even though he was just trying to manipulate Mengele. The doctor's chest grew large. ~ Wendy Hoffman

It can feel so lonely, to see strangers out in the day, shopping, on a day that is not a good one. On this one: the day I returned from the emergency room after having a fit about wanting to remove my mouth. Not an easy day to look at people in their vivid clothes, in their shining hair, pointing and smiling at colorful woven sweaters.
I wanted to erase them all. But I also wanted to be them all, and I could not erase them and want to be them at the same time.
At home, Joseph was nicer to me than usual and we played a silent game of Parcheesi for an hour in the slanted box of remaining sunlight on the carpet. Dad came by and brought me a pillow. Mom went to take a nap. Joseph won. I went to bed early. I woke up the same. ~ Aimee Bender

your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. (Isaiah 58:8-10) ~ Jen Hatmaker

Want me to say it? Want me to confess what makes me an actual felon and reserves me a choice spot in hell?"

"Please, Alexandria Patra," Preton said, "tell me all your regrets."

Her eyes narrowed. "I taught children to surrender their developing minds to concepts like the greater good or the good of society which can't exist in any form in this world without actual kids being trampled underneath their untouchable banners."

Pointing at her own chest, she added, "I taught children that in order to live up to those 'higher' ideals they must be obedient - to others, must sacrifice their dreams - to the needs of others. I taught them it was more important to be a part of a group than to stand on their own judgment. I told the non-conforming kids they should feel guilty for wanting to live on their own terms."

Alexa swept a hand forward, pointing it at Preton. "I then delivered every ego-stripped, dream-crushed child to the power mongers of the world like you, who will use this universally accepted mirage of morality to control them. ~ S.W. Southwick

I loved driving with Marlboro Man. I saw things I'd never seen before, things I'd never even considered in my two and a half decades of city life. For the first time ever, I began to grasp the concept of north, south, east, and west, though I imagine it would take another twenty-five years before I got them straight. I saw fence lines and gates made of welded iron pipe, and miles upon miles of barbed wire. I saw creeks--rocky, woodsy creeks that made the silly water hazard in my backyard seem like a little mud puddle. And I saw wide open land as far as the eye could see. I'd never known such beauty.
Marlboro Man loved showing me everything, pointing at pastures and signs and draws and lakes and giving me the story behind everything we saw. The land, both on his family's ranch and on the ranches surrounding it, made sense to him: he saw it not as one wide open, never-ending space, but as neatly organized parcels, each with its own purpose and history. "Betty Smith used to own this part of our ranch with her husband," he'd say. "They never had kids and were best friends with my grandparents." Then he'd tell some legend of Betty Smith's husband's grandfather, remembering such vivid details, you'd think he'd been there himself. I absorbed it all, every word of it. The land around him pulsated with the heartbeats of all who'd lived there before…and as if it were his duty to pay honor to each and every one of them, he told me their names, their stories, their relationship, the ~ Ree Drummond

A system of metaphor (pointing to a higher power) that one takes inside oneself as the truth and through its rules one aligns ones inner and outer behavior, submitting ones ego or will to the will of a higher power. ~ Mason Jennings

Don't let a Narcissist, or any other kind of vampire, get away with nonverbal disapproval. Unspoken communication has much more power than mere words because it is ambiguous. If a Narcissist says you did something wrong, you can at least disagree. If he only hints at it, you are left wondering if what you're seeing really means what you think it does, or if the whole thing is somehow your fault, or whatever else you might be imagining. ... Translate rather than pointing the finger. This is the tricky part because it is subtle, but it will make all the difference. An unsubstantiated accusation of an internal state, like, "You're bored," invites defensiveness. A translation, like, "You keep looking at the clock; I'm assuming you're bored," is much harder to deny. A Histrionic might try, but other kinds of vampires will have to concede that they are indeed looking at the clock. ~ Albert J. Bernstein

Whether through the patterns left in snow, or geese honking in the dark, or through the brilliant wet leaf that hits your face the moment you are questioning your worth, the quiet teachers are everywhere, pointing us to the unlived portion of our lives. When we think we are in charge, the lessons dissolve as accidents or coincidence. But when we're humble enough to welcome the connections, the glass that breaks across the room is offering us direction, giving us a clue to the story we are in. ~ Mark Nepo

Are you conceding?' he says, his mouth falling open with mock surprise. 'Seems like that serum did you some good after all ... ' I shove him as hard as I can. 'Take that back. Take it back now.' 'Okay, okay!' He puts up his hands. 'It's just ... I'm not very nice either, you know. That's why I like you so- ' 'Out!' I shout, pointing at the door. ~ Veronica Roth

And yet the Nobel Prizes, in singling out individuals, have done a great deal of good in pointing up to the world as a whole and setting forth clearly goals for achievement. ~ Willard Libby

If you see your nature, you don't need to read sutras or invoke buddhas. Erudition and knowledge are not only useless but also cloud your awareness. Doctrines are only for pointing to the mind. Once you see your mind, why pay attention to doctrines? ~ Bodhidharma

My values, our values, aren't about pointing fingers. They are about offering a helping hand. ~ Kathleen Blanco

The finger pointing at the moon remains a finger and under no circumstances can it be changed into the moon itself. ~ D.T. Suzuki

It is for this reason that Jung may be right in assuming that energy is a universal concept applicable to psychic functioning as well as the physical universe. Jung then describes how energy has two attributes, intensity and extensity. Extensity of energy is not transferable from one structure to another without changing the structure; intensity of energy is. By extensity, Jung is referring to the quality of the energy. In other words, he is pointing out that there is "something" that travels from one place to another when an energy transformation occurs.

For example, a ball that is hit straight up carries with it energy continually undergoing transformation. It has kinetic energy and gravitational potential energy. The quantity of kinetic energy is continually transferring into potential energy as the ball rises. Thus at the top of its trajectory, the ball is momentarily at rest, i.e., with no kinetic energy, but with full potential energy. The evaluation of its quantities of energy is intensive but the qualities of kinetic and potential are extensive. The ball cannot transfer its kinetic quality into potential quality without changing its form by breaking up, for example, into parts.

Similarly there is a psychic extensive factor that is not transferable. Jung's concept of extensity and intensity are forerunners of David Bohm's concept of implicate and explicate order, about which I shall have more to say later. They are also forerunners of the conceptu ~ Fred Alan Wolf

Occasionally she glanced at him, asking with her glance, 'Is this what I think?' "I understand,' she said, blushing. "What is this word?' he said, pointing to the "n' that signified the word "never." ... She wrote: t, I, c,g,n,o,a. ~ Leo Tolstoy

On Good Friday last year the SS found some pretext to punish 60 priests with an hour on "the tree." That is the mildest camp punishment. They tie a man's hands together behind his back, palms facing out and fingers pointing backward. Then they turn his hands inwards, tie a chain around his wrists and hoist him up by it. His own wight twists his joints and pulls them apart ... Several of the priest who were hung up last year never recovered and died. If you don't have a strong heart, you don't survive it. Many have a permanently crippled hand. ~ Jean Bernard

The river of his youth had been diverted and poured out broadly across the land to seep through dirt to the roots of crops instead of running in its bed. The river was no longer a river, and the desert was no longer a desert. Nothing was as it had been.
He knew what had happened to the sagelands. He himself had helped burn them. Then men like his father had seized the river without a trace of evil in their hearts, sure of themselves but ignorant, and children of their time entirely, with no other bearings to rely on. Irrigators and fruit-tree growers, they believed the river to be theirs. His own life spanned that time and this, and so he believed in the old fast river as much as he believed in apple orchards, and yet he saw that the two were at odds, the river defeated that apples might grow as far as Royal Slope. It made no more sense to love the river and at the same time kill it growing apples than it made sense to love small birds on the wing and shoot them over pointing dogs. But he'd come into the world in another time, a time immune to these contradictions and in the end he couldn't shake old ways any more than he could shake his name. ~ David Guterson

He, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together. "There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see - ~ J.K. Rowling

I glanced at Radu. "What, exactly is Louis-Cesare's problem?'. [..]
Suddenly a speculative gleam lit his eyes. It made me nervous. 'He tends to be very protective of women,"he said thoughtfully. "You're a woman Dory."
"Thank you for pointing that out. But I didn't think dhampirs qualified."
Radu smirked. "It appears you've been upgraded. ~ Karen Chance

You're the one sitting there with a boner. You'll
terrify your charity guys, walking in with that thing pointing
at them. ~ Sherilee Gray

Their time of talking and belittling us this way has expired. They tried, but they failed to realize we are strong and we will never give up.
Their time of thinking they can touch us inappropriately and we will keep quiet has expired. No! We will rise up and bring the world to its feet. Trust me… We will be seen and heard!
Their time of trying to break us down has expired. No! We can move mountains!
Their time of pointing their fingers at us and putting F.E.A.R (False Evidence Appearing Real) into our minds by making us believe it is our fault has expired. No! It is not our fault. It never was!
Their time of nasty insults has expired. They fail to realize we catch every nasty word and throw back the insult to show we can give as good as we get.
Their time of preying off vulnerable women who have to "make a deal" to get a higher position they earned has expired. No! Your "man"ipulation has no effect. We, as women, have full ownership of our minds, bodies, and souls. ~ Charlena E. Jackson

George always said the first summer of the Rising was possibly the best example of human nobility that history had to offer, because for just a few months, before the accusations started flying and the fingers started pointing, we really were one people, united against one enemy. And we fought. We fought for the right to live, and in the end, we won. Sort of, anyway. ~ Mira Grant

Nice." I walked over to him and patted his back. "Y'know, for someone who took his first time-travel experience like a man, I'm surprised a little train ride did you in."
"That," said Finn, coughing and pointing at the quickly filling coach behind him, "is no train. ~ Karen Akins

David I knock you out! - While pointing to the camera with a smirk. ~ Vitali Klitschko

«In my opinion, it is you considerate, humane men, that are responsible for all the brutality and outrage wrought by these wretches; because, if it were not for your sanction and influence, the whole system could not keep foothold for an hour. If there were no planters except such as that one,» said he, pointing with his finger to Legree, who stood with his back to them, «the whole thing would go down like a millstone. It is your respectability and humanity that licenses and protects his brutality.» ~ Harriet Beecher Stowe

What are you thinking about?" Jay asked as he plopped down next to her.
She blinked, wondering if she was wearing her frustration on her face. "Nothing," she lied, pushing her salad around her plate.
She wasn't sure why she didn't just tell him.
"Doesn't look like nothing," Jules interrupted from across the table.
Violet cast a quick glare at her friend for inconveniently pointing out the obvious.
"What?" Jay asked, nudging Violet with his shoulder. "Tell me."
Violet hesitated, suddenly embarrassed over her new insecurity. Yet, inside her head, she bitterly referred to Mike as "Jay's boyfriend."
Ironically, though, it was Mike who saved Violet from having to confess those very thoughts, when he slid into an open space on the other side of the table. "What'd I miss?" His lazy smile reached all the way into his tawny-colored eyes, and even the dimples on his cheek made a fleeting appearance.
Violet could see the draw for Chelsea; he was sort of stunning to look at.
So then what was Jay's excuse? She jokingly hoped it wasn't the adorable dimple too. ~ Kimberly Derting

I love you, Eliza," I said.
She thought about it. "No," she said at last, "I don't like it."
"Why not?" I said.
"It's as though you were pointing a gun at my head," she said. "It's just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don't mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, 'I love you, too'? ~ Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Right mothering meets the
child's need.

Focusing on what the child should
not be draws resistant energy. Pointing
out what the child should be feeds
self-hatred and struggle. ~ Vimala McClure

Is constructive criticism really constructive? Not really. You can't make a child better by pointing out what you think is wrong with him or her. Criticism either crushes spirit or elicits defensiveness. Constructive criticism is an interesting combination of words. "Construct" means "to build." "Criticism" means "to tear down" It creates defiance and anger as well. ~ H. Norman Wright

Stanford University's psychologist Carol Dweck and her colleagues have discovered that what you believe about intellectual ability - whether you think it's a fixed gift, or an earned ability that can be developed - makes a difference to your behavior, persistence, and performance. Students who see ability as fixed - as a gift - are more vulnerable to setbacks and difficulties. And stereotypes, as Dweck rightly points out, "are stories about gifts - who has them and who doesn't." Dweck and her colleagues are shown that when students are encouraged to see math ability as something that grows with effort - pointing out, for example, that the brain forges new connections and develops better ability every time they practice a task - grades improve and gender gaps diminish (relative to groups given control interventions). ~ Cordelia Fine

Last night I saw your ghost pedalling a bicycle with a basket towards a moon as full as my heavy head and I wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that basket like ET with my glowing heart glowing right through my chest and my glowing finger pointing in the direction of our home. ~ Andrea Gibson

One lesson I got from Gandhi, 'Be the change you want to see,' haunts me. I just feel like I can't keep stomping around pointing the finger at BP when I am supporting the oil industry with my very own dollars and actions by buying their products, helping to pay their mortgage - plastic is from oil ... polyester, shower curtains. ~ Kristin Bauer Van Straten

Parks waits a long while, until he's absolutely certain that Justineau's monologue is finished. The truth is, for most of the time he's been trying to figure out what it is exactly that she's trying to tell him. Maybe he was right the first time about where they were heading, and Justineau airing her ancient laundry is just a sort of palate-cleanser before they have sex. Probably not, but you never know. In any case, the countermove to a confession is an absolution, unless you think the sin is unforgivable. Parks doesn't.

"It was an accident," he tells her, pointing out the obvious. "And probably you would have ended up doing the right thing. You don't strike me as the sort of person who just lets shit slide." He means that, as far as it goes. One of the things he likes about Justineau is her seriousness. He frigging flat-out hates frivolous, thoughtless people who dance across the surface of the world without looking down.

"Yeah, but you don't get it," Justineau says. "Why do you think I'm telling you all this?"

"I don't know," Parks admits. "Why are you telling me?"

Justineau steps away from the parapet wall and squares off against him – range, zero metres. It could be erotic, but somehow it's not.

"I killed that boy, Parks. If you turn my life into an equation, the number that comes out is minus one. That's my lifetime score, you understand me? And you … you and Caldwell, and Private Ginger f**king Rogers … my God, whe ~ M.R. Carey

Can't machines build these faster?" he asked the woman, looking around the starship shell."Why, of course!" she laughed."Then why do you do it?""It's fun. You see one of these big mothers sail out those doors for the first time, heading for deep space, three hundred people on board, everything working, the Mind quite happy, and you think, I helped build that. The fact a machine could have done it faster doesn't alter the fact that it was you who actually did it."
"Hmm," he said.
"Well, you may 'hmm' as you wish," the woman said, approaching a translucent hologram of the half-completed ship, where a few other construction workers were standing, pointing inside the model and talking. "But have you ever been gliding or swum underwater?"
"Yes," he agreed.
The woman shrugged. "Yet birds fly better than we do, and fish swim better. Do we stop gliding or swimming because of this?"
He smiled. "I suppose not."
"You suppose correctly," the woman said. "And why?" She looked at him, grinning. "Because it's fun. ~ Iain M. Banks

If you feel the need to make someone feel less assured of themselves or have to call another person out, you may gain a false sense of superiority. ~ Kristin Michelle Elizabeth

pointing. She was completely hopeless. ~ Kate Atkinson

All the people within reach had suspended their business, or their idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them, had dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own jostling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down, made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help women, who bent over their shoulders, to sip, before the wine had all run out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in the puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into infants' mouths; others made small mud-embankments, to stem the wine as it ran; others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here and there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new directions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed pieces of the cask, licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted fragments with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the wine, and not only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up along with it, that there might have been a scavenger in the street, if anybody acquainted with it could have believed in such a miraculous presence. ~ Charles Dickens

Zoe, I--Oh, God!" he shouted, clutching his chest and stumbling back.

"What?" she asked, looking around anxiously as she clutched a large brown muffin against her chest.

With a shaky hand, he pointed at the offending item that she dared bring into his house. "What the hell is that?"

She looked down and frowned. "My muffin?"

"How could you?" he demanded hoarsely as he shook his head in disgust.

"What the hell are you freaking out about?" she demanded, looking around again.

"That shirt!" he said, pointing wildly towards the Red Sox shirt that she dared to wear in his presence. "What the hell were you thinking? ~ R.L. Mathewson

My mom tries to comfort me by saying that girls like Heather Campbell tend to peak early in life and then quickly fade. That's why she looks so much better than everyone now. But by the time I go to my ten-year reunion, I'll be way prettier than she is. To which I always reply with the same statement, "I don't want to be pretty in ten years. I want to be pretty now."
Because what good is it to me now that I might or might not be drop-dead gorgeous when I'm twenty-seven? It's not like I can go to school every day with a big cardboard sign around my neck that says, "Trust me, in ten years, I'll look like this." And then an arrow pointing to a picture of a supermodel. ~ Jessica Brody

Digital presentation is just television in public; we're all just getting together and watching TV without pointing the remote control at the screen. ~ Quentin Tarantino

I think that I must be the only person who left California and headed to Dublin in pursuit of a career in film. The arrow is pointing in the other direction in most people's minds. ~ Lenny Abrahamson

The nice thing about a protest song is that it takes the complaint, the fussing, the finger-pointing, and gives it an added component of sociable harmony. ~ Nicholson Baker

What we do? Me and you? I asked, pointing between us. "It's not shameful. The way we make each other feel? It's fucking beautiful. The most fucking beautiful thing I've ever experienced. Don't ever feel ashamed to tell me what you want. To ask me for it. I love that you want me, Say. Now tell me to fuck you. ~ T.M. Frazier

It already smells good," he said, pointing toward the stove. "It smells ... quiet." He looked at her.
"Quiet? Could something smell quiet" She was thinking about the phrase, asking herself. He was right. After the pork chops and steaks and roasts she cooked for the family, this was quiet cooking. No violence involved anywhere down the food chain, except maybe for pulling up the vegetables. The stew cooked quietly and smelled quiet. ~ Robert James Waller

Dex crouched down next to her, lips level with her ear. "You know, you were a lot more fun three years ago."
It was like he wanted her to kill him.
She turned, unfazed that their faces were separated by mere centimeters. So close she could see the pores in his caramel skin, the deep brown of his eyes, and the raised scar that rested near his temple.
She'd given him that scar.
What she also noticed was how her heart no longer fluttered like it used to when he looked at her. She used to love his eyes, their unspoken words. The feel of his skin against hers during their passionate nights, but now those thoughts made her cringe. She guarded herself against those details scrounged from distant memories. They were no longer part of a blissful reality but a hurtful past.
"A lot has changed in three years, Dextro," Andi said calmly. "Now if you don't move, I'll give you a new scar, and this time," she said, pointing to his right temple, "it will be across your neck."
He put his arms up in defense before rising, distancing himself from her. ~ Sasha Alsberg

I still felt a little bit sick for needing the help of a Librarian. It was frustrating. Terribly frustrating. In fact, I don't think I can accurately - through text - show you just how frustrating it was. But because I love you, I'm going to try anyway. Let's start by randomly capitalizing letters. "We cAn SenD fOr a draGOn to cArry us," SinG saId As we burst oUt oF the stAirWeLL and ruSHED tHrough ThE roOm aBovE. "ThAT wILl taKe tOO Long," BaStiLlE saiD. "We'Ll haVe To graB a VeHiCle oFf thE STrEet," I sAid. (You know what, that's not nearly frustrating enough. I'm going to have to start adding in random punctuation marks too.) We c! RoS-Sed thrOu? gH t% he Gra## ND e ` nt < Ry > WaY at "A" de-aD Ru) n. OnC $ e oUts/ iDE, I Co* Uld sEe T ^ haT the suN wa + S nEar to s = Ett = ING - it w.O.u.l.d Onl > y bE a co@ uPle of HoU[ rs unTi ^ L the tR} e} atY RATiF ~ iCATiON ha, pPenEd. We nEeDeD!! to bE QuicK?.? UnFOrTu() nAtelY, tHE! re weRe no C? arriA-ges on tHe rOa ^ D for U/ s to cOmMan > < dEer. Not a ON ~ e ~. THerE w + eRe pe/ Ople wa | lK | Ing aBoUt, BU? t no caRr# iaGes. (Okay, you know what? That's not frustrating enough either. Let's start replacing some random vowels with the letter Q.) I lqOk-eD arO! qnD, dE# sPqrA# te, fRq? sTr/ Ated (like you, hopefully), anD aNn | qYeD. Jq! St eaR& lIer, tHqr ^ E hq.d BeeN DoZen! S of cq? RrIqgEs on The rQA! d! No-W tHqRe wA = Sn't a SqnGl + e oN ^ q. "ThE_rQ!" I eXclai $ mqd, poIntIng. Mqv = Ing do ~ Wn th_e Rqa ~ Brandon Sanderson

But as I look at him, my anger ebbs away, like the changing of the tide. And standing in the place of my anger is my initiation instructor and friend, alive again.
I grin.
"So you're alive," I say.
"More importantly," he says, pointing at me, "you are no longer upset about it."
He grabs my arm and pulls me into an embrace, slapping my back with one hand. I try to return his enthusiasm, but it doesn't come naturally
when we break apart, my face is hot. And judging by how he bursts into laughter, it's also bright red.
"Once a Stiff, always a Stiff," he says.
"Whatever," I say. ~ Veronica Roth

A religious belief ... is not a statement about Reality, but a hint, a clue about something that is a mystery, beyond the grasp of human thought. In short, a religious belief is only a finger pointing to the moon. Some religious people never get beyond the study of the finger. Others are engaged in sucking it. Others yet use the finger to gouge their eyes out. These are the bigots whom religion has made blind. Rare indeed is the religionist who is sufficiently detached from the finger to see what it is indicating - these are those who, having gone beyond belief, are taken for blasphemers. ~ Anthony De Mello

There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scorn - there are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you. ~ Alyson Noel

In recent times, more and more human thinking has come to assume that the idea of a universal natural law and the idea of 'God' are pointing to one and the same reality. ~ Wilhelm Reich

Gregori strutted toward the door. "I'm too sexy for my cape, too sexy for my fangs. Too sexy." He whirled in a circle, then struck a disco pose with a hand pointing at the ceiling. "Too sexy!" He left with a flourish of his cape. ~ Kerrelyn Sparks

I can text in complete sentences. Oh, yeah, it's a skill." He smiled, proud of his accomplishments. "And, thanks to my mom being a competitive dancer as a teen, I know how to do the Lindy hop and the jitterbug."
I sat bolt upright, and Akinli rolled his eyes.
"I swear, if you tell me you can jitterbug, I'm going to . . . I don't even know. Set something on fire. No one can dance like that."
I pursed my lips and dusted off my shoulder, a thing I'd seen Elizabeth do when she was bragging.
As if he was accepting a challenge, he shrugged off his backpack and stood, holding out a hand for me.
I took it and positioned myself in front of him as he shook his head, grinning.
"All right, we'll take this slow. Five, six, seven, eight."
In unison, we rock stepped and triple stepped, falling into the rhythm in our head. After a minute, he got brave and swung me around, lining me up for those peppy kicks I loved so much.
People walked by, pointing and laughing, but it was one of those moments when I knew we weren't being mocked; we were being envied.
We stepped on each other's toes more than once, and after he accidentally knocked his head into my shoulder, he threw his hands up.
"Unbelievable," he said, almost as if he was complaining. "I can't wait to tell my mom this. She's gonna think I'm lying. All those years dancing in the kitchen thinking I was special, and then I run across a master. ~ Kiera Cass

One man's modus ponens is another man's reductio, as epistemologists are forever pointing out (In Critical Condition, p. 70) ~ Jerry A. Fodor

Look at that symbol,' she said, pointing to the top of a page. Above what Harry assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes, he could not be sure), there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line. 'I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione.' 'I know that, but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either. All along I thought it was a picture ~ J.K. Rowling

So answer me, are you merely a cowardly Moses, pointing the way to the Promised Land but poisoned by doubt and so unable to cross the River Jordan? ~ Tony Vigorito

The rabbit is significant in that the handle on the original South Pointing Chariot was carved in the form of a rabbit. Because the handle extended out front it meant that wherever the rabbit went the chariot had to follow. ~ Kit Williams

I don't need to critique things, or have an opinion, or pose, with John - we just go around being alive, and pointing at things. We're just, simply, in the world. It had never occurred to me what a wonderful thing this was. Or perhaps it did, a long time ago - but I had forgotten. I am full of how great life is. I am so happy to be alive. That point of life is joy - to make it, to receive it. That the Earth is a treasure box of people and places and song, and that every day you can plunge your arms in and find a new, ridiculous, perfect delight. ~ Caitlin Moran

We are not preaching the Gospel of a dead Christ, but of a living Christ who sits exalted at the Father's right hand, and is living to save all who put their trust in Him. That is why those of us who really know the Gospel never have any crucifixes around our churches or in our homes. The crucifix represents a dead Christ hanging languid on a cross of shame. But we are not pointing men to a dead Christ; we are preaching a living Christ. He lives exalted at God's right hand, and He "saves to the uttermost all who come to God by Him." ~ Henry Allen Ironside

At one point he seemed to be showing the moon to Lyra, pointing up at it and holding her so she could see, or perhaps he was showing Lyra to the moon; at any rate he looked like a lord in his own domain, with nothing to fear and all the silvery night to enjoy. ~ Philip Pullman

Here's your first problem," he said, pointing at a sentence. "'Religion is the opium of the people.' Well, I don't know about people, but I think you'll find that the opium of pirates is actual opium. ~ Gideon Defoe

The fact that [English] has shed most of the old grammatical forms which time has rendered useless and scarcely intelligible, has made English a model, pointing the way which must be followed in building the Interlanguage ... ~ Sylvia Pankhurst

There's never been a map. Only a compass whose dial always knows where it's pointing. ~ Fennel Hudson

You were supposed to be on that elevator with him," Tristan said from behind us. "If you don't make it to the car before he does, believe me, he will drop the both of you on the spot"
Atticus and I glanced at each for a second, before I took off my heels and bolted towards the stairs.
"Are you insane? There are at least 60 flights of stairs!" Atticus yelled after me, but I ignored him, running as quickly as I could.
AsI reached the 49th level, Ipushed open the door and dashed towards the elevator, pressing the botton over and over again, as if my life depended on it.
"Ma'am?" a security guard asked, coming towards me. Fortunately, the doors opened, and sure enough there was Levi reading his paper.
"I work for him!" I shouted, pointing to Levi, as I jumped inside.
He looked up at me, confused as I entered gasping.
"I would have been more impressed if you ran down all of the stairs," he said, no longer interested in me. As I stood there trying to catch my breath, he continued reading.
"Fuck you"
"Excuse me?" he turned back to look at me, his eyes narrowing.
"Achoo," I sneezed. "Excuse me," I lied and he knew it, but I put my heels back on anyway.
"Where's Atticus?" he asked as the doors opened.
"I don't know maybe he just isn't hungry for-" I stopped, seeing Atticus already standing at the car door.
Levi looked back to me. "He wins. ~ J.J. McAvoy

I mean, I've had bartenders and waiters and waitresses make a comment about a joke of mine, like pointing out some sort of logic error or something that I've never even thought about, and they're right. ~ Todd Barry

Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again. ~ J.K. Rowling

But his son hated him. He hated him for coming up to them, for stopping and looking down on them; he hated him for interrupting them; he hated him for the exaltation and sublimity of his gestures; for the magnificence of his head; for his exactingness and egotism (for there he stood, commanding then to attend to him); but most of all he hated the twang and twitter of his father's emotion which, vibrating round them, disturbed the perfect simplicity and good sense of his relations with his mother. By looking fixedly at the page, he hoped to make him move on; by pointing his finger at a word, he hoped to recall his mother's attention, which, he knew angrily, wavered instantly his father stopped. But, no. Nothing would make Mr. Ramsay move on. There he stood, demanding sympathy. ~ Virginia Woolf