I don't like the Samba; it's nonsense. With a lot of these Latin dances I can't really understand what they're all about. I like the Rumba and the Paso Doble but the others I could take or leave.
To mock something is pure ignorance. Intelligent people even open themselves to things that they don't understand. […] When an ignorant praises something, it won't probably be something profound. Surely it can't be the Principle that guides us.
We can appreciate but not really understand the medieval town. We cannot comprehend its compactness, the contiguity of all its buildings as a single uninterrupted whole.
If you go in thinking that you're smarter than everyone else, you want in a learning very much. If you go in thinking, "I'd sure like to understand this better," you end up doing precisely that.
These are bagpipes. I understand the inventor of the bagpipes was inspired when he saw a man carrying an indignant, asthmatic pig under his arm. Unfortunately, the man-made sound never equalled the purity of the sound achieved by the pig.
What I wanted was for everyone listening to understand that these things mattered - not necessarily for me, but in this particular forum they mattered in terms of whether of not we were getting a person who should sit on the Supreme Court.
For the first time, I understand that, as much as one might desire change, one has to be willing to take a risk, to free-fall, to fail, and that you've got to let go of the past.
You understand reality while everyone else is running around confused and angry and upset because they think reality is something happening to them rather than something they are making every moment with every thought.
On the other hand, I don't understand the enthusiasm for everything in the antique shop that Grandma threw out. There, the sense of quality has declined; otherwise Grandma wouldn't have thrown it out.
If my performance touches someone or helps someone understand themselves a little better or gives them a laugh, I feel like I gave them something. I want to touch people's lives and bring them along with me.
I just think this whole thing about not wearing anything twice, I just don't understand it. I think things should be worn. You should bond with your clothing. It should be yours.
What gets me upset about with the newer players is their lack of intensity. They tend to go through the motions a little bit. They don't understand that you've got to practice the way you play.
I don't understand this irony - valuable things like cars, gold, diamond are made up of hard materials but most valuable things like money, contracts and books are made up of soft paper.
If you just mimic the surface of somebody’s work without understanding where they are coming from, your work will never be anything more than a knockoff.
And I think you understand a little bit more why she falls for him. In a way, watching the French do anything is a little more fun because their gestures are different. And in that way, they make everything interesting.
I believe that connecting with other moms is so important; after all, we are all on this crazy journey together and no one understands what we're going through better than each other.
The sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic, or intellectual, forms a bridge between the sharers which can be the basis for understanding much of what is not shared between them, and lessens the threat of their difference.
Children don't understand, when things aren't given. The single parent struggling to provide; how they sacrifice themselves, by sweeping their dreams and goals under the table, just to bring bread and beans on the table.
Look at him now, poor fellow. That's what a dose of reality does for you...Never touch the stuff myself, you understand. Find it gets in the way of the hallucinations.
People sometimes get so lost in their own beliefs that they fail to gain truth and understanding. You can't get the whole picture just by relying on your own perception. Never be afraid of the truth.
Love and translation look alike in their grammar. To love someone implies transforming their words into ours. Making an effort to understand the other person and, inevitably, to misinterpret them. To construct a precarious language together.