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Quotes about Perception

They do us honor by seeing gods in us, and we respond by treating them like things.
— JM Coetzee
Does it surprise you as much as it does me, this correspondence between things as they are and the pictures we have of them in our minds?
— JM Coetzee
Pain is nothing, just a warning signal from the body to the brain. Pain is no more the real thing than an X-ray photograph is the real thing. Biut of course he is wrong.
— JM Coetzee
we also first beheld Unveiled the summit of Mont Blanc, and grieved To have a soulless image on the eye That had usurped upon a living thought That never more could be.
— JM Coetzee
The world is more various than we ever give it credit for.
— JM Coetzee
It always puzzled him, when he was a child, that a woman who wrote books for a living should be so bad at telling bedtime stories.
— JM Coetzee
Because it is not in the nature of love affairs for the lovers to see each other whole and steady.
— JM Coetzee
Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life.
— Jack Kerouac
Your mind makes out the orange by seeing it, hearing it, touching it, smelling it, tasting it and thinking about it but without this mind, you call it, the orange would not be seen or heard or smelled or tasted or even mentally noticed, it's actually, that orange, depending on your mind to exist! Don't you see that? By itself it's a no-thing, it's really mental, it's seen only of your mind. In other words it's empty and awake.
— Jack Kerouac
I took a straight picture that made me look like a thirty-year-old Italian who'd kill anybody who said something against his mother.
— Jack Kerouac
So I rushed past the pretty girls, and the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.
— Jack Kerouac
And a bird who was on a crooked branch is suddenly gone without my even hearing him.
— Jack Kerouac