Quotes about Perception

When grown people speak of the innocence of children, they dont really know what they mean. Pressed, they will go a step further and say, Well, ignorance then. The child is neither. There is no crime which a boy of eleven had not envisaged long ago. His only innocence is, he may not yet be old enough to desire the fruits of it, which is not innocence but appetite; his ignorance is, he does not know how to commit it, which is not ignorance but size.

A hack writer who would not have been considered fourth rate in Europe. (on Mark Twain)

When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.

Al ÅŸunu, diyorum, çikolatay? ona vererek. ÖnlüÄŸümü ç?kar?p o yana geçtim. Baya?? güzeldi. Hani ÅŸu kara gözlüler vard?r ya, bir aldatacak olsan b?ça?? saplayacak gibi görünürler, onlardand?.

And so I told myself to take that one. Because Father said clocks slay time. He said time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

Caddy smelled like trees in the rain.

I've seed de first en de last, Dilsey said. I seed de beginnin, en now I sees de endin.

Po jakim? czasie cz?owiek przyzwyczaja si?, zapomina i nawet nie czuje, ?e zimno, bo zapomnia?, co to jest ciep?o.

I'd have to listen to somebody - artist or shoe clerk. And the artist is more entertaining because he knows less about what he is trying to do.

as he strode on, moving almost as fast as a smaller man could have trotted, his body breasting the air her body had vacated, his eyes touching the objects—post and tree and field and house and hill—her eyes had lost.

I dont suppose anybody ever deliberately listens to a watch or a clock. You dont have to. You can be oblivious to the sound for a long while, then in a second of ticking it can create in the mind unbroken the long diminishing parade of time you didn't hear.

I would think about his name until after a while I could see the word as a shape, a vessel, and I would watch him liquefy and flow into it like cold molasses flowing out of the darkness into the vessel, until the jar stood full and motionless: a significant shape profoundly without life like an empty door frame; and then I would find that I had forgotten the name of the jar.