Quotes About Wildness

I used to throw stuff out of the window and trash hotel rooms - and superglue all the drawers shut and superglue the toilet seat down and superglue the phone to the nightstand - and all kinds of stuff. I had a chain saw for a while. I didn't really use it but once or twice.

As the English essayist G. K. Chesterton wrote, life is "a trap for logicians" because it is almost reasonable but not quite; it is usually sensible but occasionally otherwise: "It looks just a little more mathematical and regular than it is; its exactitude is obvious, but its inexactitude is hidden; its wildness lies in wait

She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. 'Time' for her isn't something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fresh water.

She was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city.

She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belongs to no man and to no city. She knows nothing of borders and invents her own rules and customs. 'Time' for her isn't something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fresh water.

she was free in her wildness; that she was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city.

I realize that in giving birth, managing a household, raising a child, and composting potato peels in a city, I have learned some things about wildness that even Thoreau could not have known.

Oh, girl, not woman, more than child, Which of us two is the more wild? So

Of course you can't understand. All you can do is destroy a village without knowing anything about its people or its history, without wanting to know. Just like that. Like a mad bull. Of course you don't understand. What do you understand? Fucking and killing, that's what you understand. And soccer. And shares in the bus cooperative. You're a wild animal, not a human being. A wild, stupid, animal.

Instead of answering her as soon as he saw her hair grow electric, her face more vivid, her eyes like lightning, her body restless and jerky like a racehorse's, he retired behind this wall of objective understanding, this gentle testing and acceptance of her, just as one watches an animal in the zoo and smiles at his antics, but is not drawn into this mood. It was this which left Lilith in a state of isolation - indeed, like a wild animal in an absolute desert.

But we were lonely. we had nobody to play with. The gay child, the inventive child, the spirited and wild child, was lonely.

Ethereal or promiscuous, she is stigmatized by the awesome drive behind her desire, the restlessness of her soul on earth, the mercilessness of her passion, [...] Her desire is grandiose and amoral, beyond the timidity she practices and the conscious morality she knows. She is stigmatized by her capacity for passion, not unlike artistic genius, the great wildness of a soul forever discontent with existing forms and their meanings; but she, unlike the artist, has no adequate means of expression.

I took his wildness from him and tried to fold it into myself, filling up the empty spaces all those second place finishes left behind.

It wasn't being an alcoholic - it was going wild. It happened when I got famous. It was like having my teens in my early thirties: blotting out your life, not having to think about anything.

she was skinny, like a salted anchovy, she gave off an odor of wildness, she had a long face, narrow at the temples, framed by two bands of smooth black hair. But

Artemis is freedom—wild, untrammelled, aloof from all entanglements. She is a huntress, a dancer, the goddess of nature and wildness, a virgin physically and, even more important, a virgin psychologically, inviolable, belonging to no one, defined by no relationship, confined by no bond.

the world can give you these glimpses as well as fairy tales can--the smell of rain, the dazzle of sun on white clapboard with the shadows of ferns and wash on the line, the wildness of a winter storm when in the house the flame of a candle doesn't even flicker.

For too long has everything divine been utilized, And all the heavenly powers, the kindly ones, thrown away, Consumed for kicks by thankless, Cunning men, who, when the exalted One works in their fields, think they Know the daylight and the Thunderer, And their telescope might see them all and Count and name all the stars in heaven; But the Father covers our eyes with holy Night so we might remain. He loves no wildness! Our expanding power will never force heaven.

She's wearing her hair in a bun, like a ballerina's. Buns are so sexy. They used to be a treat to take apart: it was like opening a gift. Heads with the hair pulled back into buns are so elegant and confined, so maidenish; then the undoing, the dishevelment, the wildness of the freed hair, spilling down the shoulders, over the breasts, over the pillow. He enumerates in his head: Buns I have known.

Men and women, they were beautiful and wild, all a little violent under their pleasant ways and only a little tamed.

The sexual act is in time what the tiger is in space.

What I sought in books was imagination. It was depth, depth of thought and feeling; some sort of extreme of subject matter; some nearness to death; some call to courage. I myself was getting wild; I wanted wildness, originality, genius, rapture, hope. I wanted strength, not tea parties. What I sought in books was a world whose surfaces, whose people and events and days lived, actually matched the exaltation of the interior life. There you could live.

Lavina loved the freedom and wildness in Sarah's garden, so unlike her mother's well- ordered, colour- coordinated beds. (53)

Her eyes remind me of the Pacific: Raging. Fearless. Restless.