The hands are the eyes of the blind!

The color of your dress really brings out the extraordinary paleness of your skin tone. Are you unwell? Dying, perhaps?

Do you know the runes on your sword are nonsense?

Think of the person you love the most in the world. Do you really see them visually? Or don't you see on a much deeper level? It's lots easier to visualize people we don't know very well.

However, advertising is never lying; it is a matter of illumination.

Adventure, like beauty, is very much in the eye of the beholder.

Maybe it hadn't entered my head at all. Maybe it had just brushed past me, like someone easing by in a dark room, the face lost in shadow, my thoughts lost in another conversation, though something in...

She was the most confusing person he had ever met

Do spirals end? Or just get so tiny your eyes can't follow any more?

Everything in New York is a photograph. All the things that are supposed to be dirty or rough or unrefined are the most beautiful things. Garbage cans at the ends of alleyways look like they've been...

To Flora, the doorbell sounded like the electric chair. Not

The incident emphasizes once more that beauty is something to be found, rather than passively encountered, that it requires us to pick up on certain details, to identify the whiteness of a cotton...

... walking down the same street that, I suspect, is the overlay of many streets. I also know that some memories are later fabrications: fantasies crafted during a conversation... Remembering,...

When Isaiah was in his teens, he worked for Harry Haldeman and wondered even then how the man could stay in a state of perpetual indignation; his fierce dark eyes glaring through the Coke-bottle...

He's asleep in the harbor, disguised as dog shit.

I hurtled down a path through the middle of a park, past shrubbery so refined it was probably entitled to vote.

I don't really like driving in the snow. There's something about the motion of the falling snowflakes that hurts my eyes, throws my sense of balance all to hell. It's like tumbling into a field of...

It has occasionally been remarked upon that it is as easy to overlook something large and obvious as it is to overlook something small and niggling, and that the large things one overlooks often cause...

Ultimately,we hear things because we cannot see everything.

Why then should witless man so much misjudge That nothing is but that which he hath seen?

Remember that in our inability to see, the move of the prestidigitator becomes magic.

People try to help, but all they have to work with is their theory of you. In the end they're talking to themselves.

She said that everything had colour in her thought; the months of the year ran through all the tints of the spectrum, the days of the week were arrayed as Solomon in his glory, morning was golden,...

They were very much the same, each attempting to force his picture of reality upon me and neither giving a hoot in hell for how things looked to me.

I have tried, of course, to be faithful to the evidence. Yet evidence is not truth. It is only evident.

Perhaps art is an eye problem…

Our contradictions are never so to ourselves.

Increasingly now, week by week, the normal, unconscious feedback of proprioception was being replaced by an equally unconscious feedback by vision, by visual automatism and reflexes increasingly...

Whatever good things you've heard about me probably aren't true. Whatever bad things you've heard are probably just the tip of the iceberg, I said.

Reason is always apparent to a discerning eye. But luck? It's invisible, erratic, angelic.