Best 366 quotes in «stranger quotes» category

In our greatest times of need when a random stranger might be the only hope of survival, all our usual petty judgment of others is rendered into a rightful place of irrelevance.

In the bathroom, I studied my body, trying to see what he had seen. My hipbones were more prominent than I remembered, probably from all the days of being unable to eat after discovering Jonathan’s betrayal. My thinness suddenly angered me. Why had I punished myself when it had been him that had been at fault? I should have pampered myself, nurtured my soul with my favourite foods and wine and spent time with friends instead of languishing at home and drowning myself in work.

I realized that whilst crying over the loss, the living did not seem adequate because they were not my loved one. The room full of strangers hurt me profusely. Even as I saw thousands of young people; I felt incomplete and more saddened because the one I wanted to see was buried.

It is no harm to accept an invitation of a stranger, but better visit an occasion of people we know well.

It's a good fact to meet a stranger,but unfortunate when they have bad intentions in meeting you after the fact. Just know you have been loyal from the beginning.

It is unpredictable for you to know which of the strangers you are about to meet that becomes your friend. Be polite to every stranger!

I try to tell myself that it isn’t him I’m attracted to. It was the thought of a stranger desiring me enough to kiss me with as much passion as he kissed me that day. That’s what I’m envious of. The idea of it all.

It's a good fact to meet a stranger,but unfortunate when they have bad intentions in meeting you after the fact. Just know you have been a loyal from the beginning.

...I've returned and I look around me and think, I've missed my life. While I was off and alone, it went on here, without me, and I'm forever doomed to be a stranger in my own home.

It's sad that in a world of billions, people can still feel isolated and alone. Sometimes all it takes to brighten up someone's day is a smile or kind word, or the generous actions of a complete stranger. Small things, the tiny details, these are the things that matter in life — the little glint in the eye, curve of a lip, nod of a head, wave of a hand — such minuscule movements have huge ripple effects.

It was not a monster that lay sleeping on the white sheets. Nor a faceless horror. Nor even the white bear. It was a man. His hair was golden, glowing bright as a bonfire in the light of the candle. And his features were fair, I suppose, but he was a stranger and that somehow was the greatest shock of all- that I had been lying all these months beside a complete stranger.

Now everyone is far from the other, Who will be with us if we put us in a place where no one knows?

Life is a helluva journey. You face situations. You meet people. You try to understand situations. You try to understand people. But you will never ever be able to understand people. You will never ever be able to understand why some things happen. You feel you desperately need someone to support you. But you won't find any support. You feel you need an anchor amidst the unpredictable nature of life. But there won't be an anchor. And you will feel your feet are losing their balance. You will feel you are falling down. You will feel the weight of life pulling you down. And you are drowning in the ocean. And you are shouting for help. But nobody can hear you because everybody is busy living their life to listen to you. You thus give up on people. You lose faith in people. You lose faith on life. You just go on living life without feeling anything. You live life in a state of numbness and indifference. And then one day you look at yourself in the mirror, and you have become a stranger to yourself!

Moments later, I was climbing nervously into the back of the car. The driver wore the archetypal expression of an antagonist. No words were exchanged beyond the brief lines uttered to this nameless stranger, whose inclinations remained unclear. The car sped along empty roads and traversed dingy alleyways. Music blared from its speakers. I did not remember exhaling throughout the entire journey.

LXXX. Den Anderen nur als 'Anderen' wahrzunehmen ist der Beginn von Gewalt.

Nationalism, originally a progressive movement, replaced the bonds of feudalism and absolutism. The average man today obtains his sense of identity from his belonging to a nation, rather than from his being a "Son of Man." His objectivity, that is, his reason, is warped by this fixation. He judges the "stranger" with different criteria than the members of his own clan. His feelings toward the stranger are equally warped. Those who are not "familiar" by bonds of blood and soil (expressed a common language, customs, food, song, etc.) are looked upon with suspicion, and paranoid delusions about them can spring up at the slightest provocation. This incestuous fixation not only poisons the relationship of the individual to the stranger, but to the members of his own clan and to himself. The person who has not freed himself from the ties to blood and soil is not yet fully born as a human being; his capacity for love and reason are crippled; he does not experience himself nor his fellow man in their-and his own-human reality.

Nowadays, you need a good excuse to go and to start talking to someone, as they say it... "You Found a stranger, now you are in real danger.

O zaman neden bilmem, içimde bir şey delinir, yırtılır gibi oldu. Avazım çıktığı kadar bağırmaya başladım, ona küfür ettim, dua filan etmemesini söyledim. Cüppesinin yakasını sımsıkı kavramıştım. Yüreğimin içinde ne varsa hepsini sevinç ve öfke patlamalarıyla karışık bir halde onun yüzüne haykırıyordum. Kendinden ne kadar da emin görünüyordu, değil mi? Halbuki onun bu güvenli edalarının bir kadın saçı kadar bile değeri yoktu.Yaşadığına bile emin değildi, bir ölü gibi yaşıyordu çünkü. Bense ellerim boş gibi duruyordum ama kendimden de, her şeyden de emindim, ondan daha emindim, hayatımdan da, gelmek üzere olan şu ölümden de emindim. Evet, bundan başka şeyim yoktu. Ama hiç değilse, bu gerçek beni nasıl karşılamışsa ben de onu öylece kavramış bulunuyordum.Önceden de haklıydım, şimdi de haklıydım, hep haklı olacaktım. Şimdiye kadar bu şekilde yaşamıştım. Şimdiden sonra da bu şekilde yaşayabilirdim. Şunu yapmış, bunu yapmamıştım. Filan şeyi yapmamıştım, ama falan şeyi de yapmıştım. Daha ne olmak ihtimali vardı? Hayatım boyunca bu dakikayı ve cezaya çarptırılacağım bu şafak saatini beklemiştim sanki. Hiç bir şeyin, ama hiçbir şeyin önemi yoktu ve ben bunun niçin böyle olduğunu biliyordum.

On the late afternoon streets, everyone hurries along, going about their own business. Who is the person walking in front of you on the rain-drenched sidewalk? He is covered with an umbrella, and all you can see is a dark coat and the shoes striking the puddles. And yet this person is the hero of his own life story. He is the love of someone’s life. And what he can do may change the world. Imagine being him for a moment. And then continue on your own way.

Perhaps we all have a face behind a face…Good and the bad, happy and sad, sane and insane. We all have an angel and the stranger and we all have the choice!

Seed becomes tree, son becomes stranger.

Saying that you do not remember something or someone is a less embarrassing or hurtful way of saying that you do not know it or them anymore.

Search for the stranger inside you, forgotten even by your death.

Rien, rien n'avait d'importance et je savais bien pourquoi.

Se um turista chega a um mundo estranho, onde nem o aspecto exterior, nem a língua, nem os costumes lhe conseguem despertar reminiscências, esse mundo exerce sobre ele um encanto delicioso. Não surge tudo isso que se oferece nos seus olhos - paisagem, costumes e fala - para o seu particular deleite? Não se lhe oferecem todas as características pitorescas para que ele se divirta e tire fotografias? Mas se o mesmo turista se vê, de repente, forçado a permanecer nesse mundo estranho para ganhar o seu pão, o pitoresco torna-se-lhe ambiente quotidiano, os habitantes passam a ser os seus vizinhos, amigos e inimigos e o caso muda inteiramente de figura. O que lhe parecera insólito e exótico ergue-se qual muro espesso entre ele e tudo o que constitui a sua vida, e por muito tempo não passa dum homem à parte, um observador sempre prestes a comparar com este mundo o seu de outrora: um comparsa que, não chegando a pisar o palco, permanece nos bastidores. Por isso o turista é para o estrangeiro domiciliado o que o campista é para um homem que se instalou, de vez, numa cabana.

Sometimes, on duty, if one trusts a stranger, one’s nerves are on edge. What if I am making a mistake!

She was delighted to meet her old self when the wind unexpectedly blew in her direction. The remains of whom she had burnt to ashes & scattered in the air

Spiritual love is when you see new faces as the oldest.

Talking to strangers is very panic fear, to be fearless and good communicator in long term try talking to strangers with courage like you already know them.

Strangers should meet in unfamiliar areas. It's comforting.

(...) Tada, ne znam zašto, kao da nešto puknu u meni. Prodereh se iz sveg glasa, ispsovah ga i rekoh neka se ne moli za mene. Zgrabih ga za ovratnik. Istresoh na njega sve što mi je ležalo na srcu koje je igralo od radosti i bijesa. On je baš tako siguran, je li? Pa ipak, cijela ta sigurnost ne vrijedi ni pišljiva boba. Nije čak siguran ni da je živ jer živi kao mrtvac. Ja sam naoko praznoruk, ali sam siguran u sebe, siguran sam u sve, sigurniji od njega, siguran u svoj život i u smrt koja će uskoro doći. Da, ja imam samo to, ali bar posjedujem tu istinu isto onoliko koliko ona posjeduje mene. Imao sam pravo, imam još pravo, imam svako pravo. Živio sam ovako, a mogao sam živjeti i drukčije. Činio sam ovo, a nisam činio ono. Ovo nisam uradio, a ono jesam. Pa onda? Čini mi se kao da sam cijelo vrijeme čekao ovaj čas i osvit dana kad ću se iskupiti. Ništa, ništa nije važno i dobro znam zašto. I on zna zašto. S dna moje budućnosti, za cijelog ovog besmislenog života koji sam vodio, diže se do mene, kroz godine koje još nisu došle, neki neodređeni dah, a taj dah izjednačuje na svom putu sve ono što su mi nekad predlagali, u onim godinama koje sam proživio i koje nisu bile nimalo stvarnije. Što se mene tiče smrt drugih, ljubav jedne majke, što me se tiče njegov Bog, život za koji se netko odlučio, sudbina koju je odabrao, kad jedna jedina sudbina odabire mene i sa mnom na milijarde povlaštenih koji, kao i on, trvrde da su mi braća. Razumije li, razumije li napokon? Svi su povlašteni. Postoje samo povlašteni. I ostali će jednog dana biti osuđeni. I on će biti osuđen. Što mari ako ga optuže zbog ubojstva i smaknu zato što nije plakao na sprovodu svoje majke? Salamanov je pas vrijedio isto toliko koliko i njegova žena. Ona ženica-automat isto je toliko kriva koliko i Marie koja je željela da se uda za mene. Što mari što mi je Raymond bio isto tako pajdaš kao i Céleste koji vrijedi više od njega? Šta mari što Marie pruža danas usne nekom drugom Mersaultu? Razumije li, napokon, taj osuđenik, da s dna moje budućnosti... Gušio sam se vičući sve ovo. Ali ključari su mi već oteli iz ruku ispovjednika i prijetili mi. On ih, međutim, umiri i zagleda se načasak nijemo u mene. Oči mu bijahu pune suza. Okrenu se i nestade.

Talk to strangers politely... Every friend you have now was once a stranger, although not every stranger becomes a friend.

Talk to strangers politely. You don’t how many of them will become your close companions.

The peculiar situation of the anthropological fieldworker, participating simultaneously in two distinct worlds of meaning and action, requires that he relate to his research subjects as an "outsider," trying to "learn" and penetrate their way of life, while relating to his own culture as a kind of metaphorical "native." To both groups he is a professional stranger, a person who holds himself aloof from their lives in order to gain perspective.

That stranger handed me a letter written in my beloved's tears. I opened it, and the letters faded away just like his love for me.

There is no other place on this earth where I feel such a strong sense of being a stranger than in my historic homeland.

The rangers of the night stay strangers in the eye of time.

The question ‘Don’t you remember me?’ is awkward, especially if it was asked by someone you have never known.

Um, thanks,” Jackson told her. “And your name is…?” “I’m Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf,” she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached. “Van Der Graaf?” Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn’t want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but… Van Der Graaf? “What are you laughing at?” Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. “I like my name. If you’re going to be a jerk, then I won’t help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care.” “…Harsh,” said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something ‘off’ about her, something that Jackson couldn’t quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. “Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?” He couldn’t resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. “Who else lives here?” he urged. “Me, myself and I,” said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression

There’s an undeniable thrill about meeting a stranger and spending a few hours together, indulging in each other’s lives. It’s that spurt of saying whatever you want and leaving it behind with someone who’ll never look at you and think of it again.

They had lied. Time was not a friend that healed all wounds ;it was the enemy that ravaged and murdered youth.

We shall forever be battling our scars, healing ourselves from the deep scars of childhood, to the awkward scars of adolescence, the hard scars of adulthood and scars of frail old age. In the answering spark in another's eyes, the cosy laughter of friends, and the circle of family, we rush to heal, heal our scars. In the eyes of a complete stranger, we finally find our balm until they are a stranger no more, and then we scar again, only to bleed again.

We are loved way more by some of the people who have not contacted us in the last twelve or so months than we are loved by some of those who contact us every twelve or so days … or hours.

We sometimes try to impress people we just met by not trying to impress them.

What an odd thing a stranger is. A stranger sleeping next to you. I listen to his breathing as if it were his entire life, with its hidden processes, the pulsing of the blood in the tissues, with thousands of tiny hidden decays and combustions, which together create and maintain him.

When men learnt to talk in the beginning of the civilised word they used language not as a means of communication alone but as a means of excluding others--using it as a way of setting themselves apart and shutting out strangers.

Why do we believe one stranger and not another?

You live like comfortable strangers. Like characters in a play.

You can just be your self’s stranger, never its friend, because you are mortal and it is immortal!

Wisdom from a stranger is better than ignorance from a friend.