Ẓāhir and bāṭin: the outside and the inside
Sufis use these two words for a surface and for what sits behind it. People read each other fast, stopping at looks, family, and whether someone carries any shine. When the outside offers nothing to admire, the person gets filed as empty, and this pair is what keeps that verdict from standing.
God does not look at your appearances but at your hearts: a different measuring
The Prophet said this, and Sufis return to it whenever looks decide something. Being passed over stings most when the reason is nothing you did: a plain face, a poor family, no presence in a room. The saying leaves the crowd's reading of the surface alone and moves the weight to a place the crowd never checked.
Baṣīra: the sight that is not in the eyes
Al-Ghazali writes about an inner eye that can be clouded while the ordinary eyes work fine. A whole crowd can look straight at someone and register nothing, because the looking is done with the part of them that only picks up surfaces. This explains how two people can face the same person and only one of them sees anything.
Malāmatiyya: the people who keep their good hidden
An early group in Nishapur made a practice of showing nothing impressive outwardly. They had watched what admiration does: it feeds the part of a person that wants to be seen, and then that part takes over. So they looked ordinary on purpose, and being underestimated stopped counting as a loss.
My friends are hidden under My domes, and no one knows them but Me: the unrecognized ones
Sufis repeat this line, in which God speaks about the people closest to Him. It meets a fear that surfaces whenever a life goes unnoticed: that being unseen means being nothing, that if nobody witnessed it, it never counted. The line puts the knowing on God's side, so a life no one applauded is still known in full.