Nobody is surprised that women writers accurately represent male characters over and over again, no doubt because everybody knows that women understand men much better than vice-versa.
I think people understand me, me as a person and what I went through because I kept it on the plate. I never hid nothing. I was never in the closet. I smoked dope, I gang banged, I did this, I did that; whatever I did it was always out.
There are a lot of people out there that really aren't that different than me, I consider myself a pretty average guy, so hopefully they understand me and know where I am coming from. I kinda feel like I am a voice for them.
I'm more relaxed. I know I have difficulties with some verbs. But if they get me, they get me. And if they don't understand me, they don't understand me.
They cheer me because they all understand me, and they cheer you because no one understands you.
My fans are my family, because they understand me and I understand them.
Fools do not understand men of intelligence.
I'm not twentysomething. I'm not trying to find myself - I know exactly who I am and exactly what I want. And I don't want a fan. I want a man who understands me, who challenges me, who calls me on my sh-t instead of letting me get away with it because I'm supposed to be a star. I want a best friend.
Oh. Yeah. That does make sense.” Shaylin hesitated. “But I don’t know which dorm room is hers.” “Third floor, number thirty-six. When they shared a brain, they used to say it stood for their chest size. I said it was their combined IQ.” “Of course you did,” Shaylin said. “See, you do understand me!” Aphrodite said with fake enthusiasm.
To understand me, you have to meet me and be around me. And then only if I'm in a good mood - don't meet me in a bad mood.
Meditation is unfocussed mind, you simply listen silently, not with a tension in the mind, not with an urge to know and learn, no, with total relaxedness, in a let go, in an opening of your being. You listen, not to know, you simply listen to understand.
we all have too many wheels, screws and valves to judge each other on first impressions or one or two pointers. I don't understand you, you don't understand me and we don't understand ourselves.
Part a of scene from 'Bitterblue' between Madlen (Bitterblue's medicine woman) and Bitterblue: Madlen came to sit beside her [Bitterblue] on the bed. "Lady Queen," she said with her own particular brand of rough gentleness. "It is not the job of the child to protect her mother. It's the mother's job to protect the child. By allowing your mother to protect you, you gave her a gift. Do you understand me?
The jury is supposed to be twelve peers, but technically that would mean every single person on the jury should have Asperger's syndrome, because then they'd really understand me.
Women," Mat declared as he rode Pips down the dusty, little-used road, "are like mules." He frowned. "Wait. No. Goats. Women are like goats. Except every flaming one thinks she's a horse instead, and a prize racing mare to boot. Do you understand me, Talmanes?" "Pure poetry, Mat," Talmanes said, tamping the tabac down into his pipe.
Have you ever been anyone's?" "No. And you?" "I've never wanted to." "Neither have I. Until I saw this lovely girl in Seattle, with big gold eyes, and pink, full lips... and I wondered if she could understand me.
I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is there one who understands me? One in a thousand of years of the nights? All me life I have been lived among them but now they are becoming lothed to me. And I am lothing their little warm tricks. And lothing their mean cosy turns. And all the greedy gushes out through their small souls. And all the lazy leaks down over their brash bodies. How small it's all! And me letting on to meself always. And lilting on all the time.
I would rediscover the secret of great communications and great combustions. I would say storm. I would say river. I would say tornado. I would say leaf. I would say tree. I would be drenched by all rains, moistened by all dews. I would roll like frenetic blood on the slow current of the eye of words turned into mad horses into fresh children into clots into curfew into vestiges of temples into precious stones remote enough to discourage miners. Whoever would not understand me would not understand any better the roaring of a tiger.
Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?
I think most women these days can understand me juggling a career with being a mom because most of us do. I think I'm luckier than most because most women work nine to five and don't see their kids. I work six months a year or eight months a year.
I think I say things nicely and my whole goal is to be understood and that includes by people who don't understand me.
It is false to suggest that men must turn away from his desires in the interest of a higher duty. Men only responds to duty if he desires to do so. To understand men, you must understand their desires and the relative strength of those desires.
If you tell me I can't understand you because of my color or you can't understand me because of your sexual orientation or she can't understand us because of her faith, well, if you can't have empathy how will you ever have solidarity?
[Identity liberalism] says, on the one hand, you can never understand me because you are not exactly the kind of person I've defined myself to be. And on the other hand, you must recognize me and feel for me. Well, if you're so different that I'm not able to get into your head and I'm not able to experience or sympathize with what you experience, why should I care?
The fact that the U.S. government spends millions of dollars to send murderous robot planes into other people's land to murder them, into other countries, that's a problem. That's what people should be concerned about. The fact that other people don't understand me is not a problem. I keep things in perspective.
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