Quotes About Vortex

You can only coax someone into the vortex from in the vortex.

My soul is a pale, tenuous membrane... That was pleasing: a thin, tenuous membrane. It had the right anatomical quality. Tight blown, quivering in the blast of noisy life. It was time for him to descend from the serene empyrean of words into the actual vortex. He went down slowly. My soul is a thin, tenuous membrane...

But family life sometimes had a vortex, like weather. It could be like a tornado in a quiet zigzag: get close enough and you might see within it a spinning eighteen-wheeler and a woman.

Either order in the cosmos is real, or all is chaos. If we are adrift in chaos, then the fragile egalitarian doctrines and emancipating programs of the revolutionary reformers have no significance; for in a vortex of chaos, only force and appetite signify.

When any creativity becomes useful, it is sucked into the vortex of commercialism, and when a thing becomes commercial, it becomes the enemy of man.

Let me tell you something about meditation. At the absolute center, is the vortex we are spun from like clay, there is a shaping hand which is neither Godlike nor peaceful as you imagine.

A child, yes, is a vortex of anxieties.

Of the life of man the duration is but a point, its substance streaming away, its perception dim, the fabric of the entire body prone to decay, and the soul a vortex, and fortune incalculable, and fame uncertain. In a word all the things of the body are as a river, and the things of the soul as a dream and a vapour; and life is a warfare and a pilgrim's sojourn, and fame after death is only forgetfulness.

But family life sometimes had a vortex, like weather. It could be like a tornado in a quiet zigzag: get close enough and you might see within it a spinning eighteen-wheeler and a woman.

The only excursion of my life outside of New Orleans took me through the vortex to the whirlpool of despair: Baton Rouge. . . . New Orleans is, on the other hand, a comfortable metropolis which has a certain apathy and stagnation which I find inoffensive.

For I am I: ergo, the truth of myself; my own sphinx, conflict, chaos, vortex—asymmetric to all rhythms, oblique to all paths. I am the prism between black and white: mine own unison in duality.

He] prepared to forget his distress by flinging himself...into 'the vortex of pleasure.

All incarnations are lived at once, and yet there does seem to be a linear sense of time when you're in the vortex of time and space, when your consciousness is fixated in a body.

The widespread shamanistic notion of a tiered cosmology – the level on which people live and spirit realms below and above – probably derives from certain universal experiences of altered states. These include sensations, on the one hand, of rising up and flying, and, on the other, of entering a vortex and passing underground and through water.

L.A. is a vortex. The weather there tricks you into thinking you're on vacation, even when you're working fourteen hours a day.

Buffy's high school was built on top of a vortex of evil, the Hellmouth. And whose wasn't?

I think that the world ended a long time ago and no one realizes it. We're in a dream somewhere in a vortex of energy that just hasn't realized its nonexistence yet.

In an entry from late 1979, Dick writes Heuristics is right on. The closer you get to reality the closer you get to (and to seeing) process. Q isn't "what is (esse)?" but "What does?" […] replace each "is" with "does" and ontology vanishes. All you have is a perpetually perturbed reality field! With a self-producing vortex.12

Era ca si cum, coborand in adancul navei, ar fi coborât în adâncul lui însu?i, în mijlocul unei v?paia care-i descifra via?? printr-un vârtej.

There ain't no "baby mama drama" up in this Vortex, homie!

As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.

Sometimes, in the throes of a nightmare when unseen powers whirl one over the roofs of strange dead cities toward the grinning chasm of Nis, it is a relief and even a delight to shriek wildly and throw oneself voluntarily along with the hideous vortex of dream-doom into whatever bottomless gulf may yawn.

For I am I: ergo, the truth of myself; my own sphinx, conflict, chaos, vortex—asymmetric to all rhythms, oblique to all paths. I am the prism between black and white: mine own unison in duality.

And yet at the center of this vortex was the desire to do something more with it. What or with whom, he wasn't sure. But he sensed it was only a matter of time until it all came together and he put his own stamp on it. Eight months later, he met John Lennon.