A Quote by Jeet Thayil

We're waiting for a glance or a word, some acknowledgement that we are here. — © Jeet Thayil
We're waiting for a glance or a word, some acknowledgement that we are here.
He was waiting for something from me. Acknowledgement. Validation. Commiseration, perhaps. I couldn’t even look at him because I was afraid of feeling any more than I already did.
The inclusion of consequences in the conception of what we have done is an acknowledgement that we are parts of the world, but the paradoxical character of moral luck which emerges from this acknowledgement shows that we are unable to operate with such a view, for it leaves us with no one to be.
I truly believe that we each have a House of Belonging waiting for us. Waiting to be found, waiting to be built, waiting to be renovated, waiting to be cleaned up. Waiting to rescue us. Waiting for the real thing: a grown-up, romantic, reciprocal relationship.
I have spent probably years of time waiting in studio lounges - waiting on a mix, waiting on my time to sing, waiting on, waiting on, waiting on. That's just the nature of life.
I’ll wait for you. Come back. The words were not meaningless, but they didn’t touch him now. It was clear enough - one person waiting for another was like an arithmetical sum, and just as empty of emotion. Waiting. Simply one person doing nothing, over time, while another approached. Waiting was a heavy word.
...falling in love could be achieved in a single word—a glance.
Waiting is a large part of living. Great, passive, negative chunks of our time are consumed by waiting, from birth to death. Waiting is a special kind of activity - if activity is the right word for it - because we are held in enforced suspension between people and places, removed from the normal rhythms of our days and lives.
Mostly, I am waiting. Got to finish the edit, I am waiting. Dubbing must get over, I am waiting. Waiting for shoot. Waiting for the set. When you are waiting, your mind isn't relaxed enough to watch a film.
He raged for hours. And the skeleton, ever the frail and solelmn philosopher, hung quietly inside, saying not a word, suspended like a delicate insect within a chrysalis, waiting and waiting.
I thought of betrayal and how it came so easily - in a word, a glance, a gesture.
One glance, one word from you gives more pleasure than all the wisdom of this world.
Waiting is part of writing. When I write the word 'waiting' by hand it even looks like 'writing.'
Public people are definitely captives. It wasn't really my ambition, but that's what happened. If I could find another word that would be more precise, I'd tell that I'm captive of my need for acknowledgement. People ask me, "Isn't it terrible to be famous?" Not for me! I sort of need it. To be honest, I always enjoyed it. It's as if it gave me some structure. It's as if I needed someone else's eyes to look at myself.
Again and again I've taken quick glances and then for some reason I've got to sit before a picture waiting and it's opened up like one of those Japanese flowers that you put into water and something I thought wasn't worth more than a casual, respectful glance begins to open up depth after depth of meaning.
You don't need a pickup line. Just glance at a woman from across the room. Glance - don't stare.
At first glance, there's a lot of sex on the Internet. Or not at first glance: nobody can find anything on the Internet at first glance.
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