Quotes About Fragility

Since all social orders and hierarchies are imagined, they are all fragile, and the larger the society, the more fragile it is.

Humans emerge from the womb like molten glass from a furnace.

Un imperio que no puede aguantar un golpe y seguir de pie no es realmente un imperio.

Celle qui ruine l'etre, la beaute . . .

I feel like she could drown me in a spoonful of water or crush me with her fingernail clippings. I realize I have no chance.

Tragedy admires man. Comedy feels a bit sorry for him.' We think we are kings or queens, masters of the universe or at least our own destiny. We forget that a foot may crush us, or that the wind may knock us down. We are not in control. We are subject to gas and sloughing skin and dirty pores. Most of our joints will eventually fail us. We have big brains which we can imagine great things, but we can't really get off the ground. It's like we have wings but we can't fly.

I turned with the receiver to the wall as I absorbed the fact of Ivan's voice, and when I glanced back at the man on my sofa, he seemed like a scrap of paper, or the handle from a broken cup, or a single rubber band—a thing that has become dislodged from its rightful place and intrudes on one's consciousness two or three or many times before one understands that it is just a thing best thrown away.

It was not like everyone had said. Not like being needed, or needing; not desperate; it did not whisper that I'd come to harm. I didn't lose my head. No, I was not going to leap from a great height and flap my wings. It was in fact the opposite of flying: it contained the wish to be toppled, to be on the floor, the ground, anywhere I might lie down. . . . On my back, and you on me.

The young woman was a window waiting to be climbed through. A window that she guessed was a little broken anyway.

Time has shattered, it's cracked like my lips.

Time has shattered, it's cracking like my lips.

She was not a poet. She was a poem. She was about to snap in half. He thought his own poetry had made her la la la la love him. It was unbearable.

Her sad girl breath makes me dizzy.

If I'm your vessel, handle me with care. Balance me lightly. Don't let me crack.

Reality isn't fragile. If you doubt a rose, it doesn't wither and die.

Let me walk through the fields of paper touching with my wand dry stems and stunted butterflies....

Just when you seem to yourself nothing but a flimsy web of questions, you are given the questions of others to hold in the emptiness of your hands, songbird eggs that can still hatch if you keep them warm, butterflies opening and closing themselves in your cupped palms, trusting you not to injure their scintillant fur, their dust. You are given the questions of others as if they were answers to all you ask. Yes, perhaps this gift is your answer.

Try not to let your mind wander ... it's too small and fragile to be out by itself.

not yet knowing myself in the slightest, I'd done nothing but convince myself I was in love with one cute, suicidal basket case after another.

Human bodies are such garbage bags.

Its roof sagged and let in water when it rained, its walls groaned and let in wind when it blew, and its doors creaked and let in hypocrites when it suited.

No one knows the colour of a flower till it is broken.

No one knows anything, really. It's all rented, or borrowed.

Take good care of yourself. Your life can be gone in a split second.