Wearing Sunglasses Indoors Quotes

Fashion Fact: Most people make the assumption that I wear trendy shades the majority of the time (often indoors) to protect my eyes from the elements. But in fact it's the reverse. I'm protecting the elements from the brilliance of my eyes.

Criticizing yourself all the time or being overly judgmental of a situation is like wearing dark sunglasses indoors.

Right now, all white people are either wearing or coveting a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. These sunglasses are so popular now that you cannot swing a canvas bag at a farmer's market without hitting a pair. In fact, at outdoor gatherings you should count the number of Wayfarers so you can determine exactly how white the event is. If you see no Wayfarers you are either at a country music concert or you are indoors.

After lunch four of us have our picture taken. Regn, myself, Fernus, and Sharon. I grip my brown lunch bag in hand, Fernus holds her soda can, Regn makes a funny expression. But what strikes me about this photograph is the shadow. We are standing in Group Reservations, the sun streaming in from above, through the skylight, and directly behind my head a giant starred reflection is cast on the wall. It is cast there as a pointed halo of sorts. I am next to Regn, she wears her sunglasses though we are still indoors. My face looks so young, my eyes do not betray any weariness. The pain is gradual. The pain is two years and more ahead. Is the star the crest of my youth? Does it suggest what I’ve always known—that something more, something far greater was in store for me? Looking back and all that’s come to pass, I can tell you yes. With a full and tired heart, I can tell you yes. I am not inclined to whimsy or overly-superstitious; however, there are signs and sometimes they must be noticed or you are a fool to dismiss them. I knew from an early age I was different. I saw the world from a distance. I was born to suffer and endure, but in so doing, if I succeeded, I was born for distinction. It was not conceit, but the knowing of Self and sometimes the frustration, the tedious ache of patience, rendered me doubtful.

Good God," cries the Mother. Everything inside her suddenly begins to cower and shrink, a thinning of bones. Perhaps this is a soldier's readiness, but it has the whiff of death and defeat. It feels like a heart attack, a failure of will and courage, a power failure: a failure of everything. Her face, when she glimpses it in a mirror, is cold and bloated with shock, her eyes scarlet and shrunk. She has already started to wear sunglasses indoors, like a celebrity widow. From where will her own strength come? From some philosophy? From some frigid little philosophy? She is neither stalwart nor realistic and has trouble with basic concepts, such as the one that says events move in one direction only and do not jump up, turn around, and take themselves back. The Husband begins too many of his sentences with "What if." He is trying to piece everything together like a train wreck. He is trying to get the train to town.

Unless under a doctor's orders to be a lady of the dark, a woman wearing sunglasses indoors or at night looks like nothing more than a satire of a Hollywood glamour queen- grade B.

They wear sunglasses indoors and mutter entertainingly bad code into their sleeves. Bat is flying to the ceremony hall. I repeat, we have Bat. The groom is, uninventively, Wolf.