Michael Crichton Quotes

A being who, as I grew older, lost imagination, emotion, a type of intelligence, a way of feeling things - all that which, while it made me sorry, did not horrify me. But what am I experiencing when I read myself as if I were someone else? On which bank am I standing if I see myself in the depths?

We are all aliens to ourselves, and if we have any sense of who we are, it is only because we live inside the eyes of others.

It is not my mode of thought that has caused my misfortunes, but the mode of thought of others.

I wanted to show life and to see ourselves and our behaviour through an outsider's eye... from the point of view of someone who knows nothing about being a human being... He doesn't have the feelings that the rest of us do.

I'm not very interested in people. I recognize it in myself - there is a basic indifference toward people.

Other people have noticed more of an evolution than I have and so I'll try to tell you where I'm coming from and also relate it to what I think other people perceive.

I don't think you ever know in yourself whether you have gone mad. You exist in a bubble. There comes a point where you suddenly feel not really a part of the world, you're just passing through.

I just feel I'm on a different page from the reviewers, so I've learned not to care about them too much.

I even found it difficult to watch myself playing on TV because I couldn't identify with the person on the screen. I couldn't get to grips with it. It was as if it was all happening to someone else.

As a writer, I'm always mindful that not everyone is going to feel the same way I do about something, so my emotions are just my emotions.

There is danger that we lose sight of what our friend is absolutely, while considering what she is to us alone.

It was so easy to disown what you couldn't recognize, to keep yourself apart from things that were foreign and unsettling. The only person you can be sure to control, always, is yourself. Which is a lot to be sure of, but at the same time, not enough.

I could hear rain still pouring from the gutters and a thin branch scraping against one of the windows; but the church seemed completely cut off from the restless day outside--just as I felt cut off from the church. I thought: I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.

He was full of the restless, dissatisfied energy that always seemed to move into his heart after he visited home these days. It had something to do with the knowledge that his parents’ house wasn’t truly home anymore — if it had ever been — and something to do with the realization that they hadn’t changed; he had.

My work has never been autobiographical. Although the subjects are driven on a personal perspective it's sort of elevated above me. I try to express something that is more a collective expression of crisis.

I'm a man for whom the outside world is an inner Reality.

For as long as he could remember, he’d suffered from a vague nagging feeling of being not all there.

Falling in love with someone doesn’t mean you know any better how they feel. It only means you know how you feel.

Imagination comes from yourself and can deceive you, but vision is a gift from outside yourself - like light striking on your closed eyelids and lifting them to see what's really there.

They who see through the eyes of others are controlled by the will of others.

I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

And since the possession of qualities presupposes that one takes a certain pleasure in their reality, all this gives us a glimpse of how it may all of a sudden happen to someone who cannot summon up any sense of reality — even in relation to himself — that one day he appears to himself as a man without qualities.

Everything intercepts us from ourselves.

There is a chasm between me and the world outside of me. A gap so wide my feelings can't cross it. By the time my screams reach the other side, they have dwindled into groans.

A man often imagines that he acts, when he is acted upon.