Quotes About Edge

He argued that every certainty is an empty throne. That those who knew but one path would come to worship it, even as it led to a cliff's edge. He argued, and in the silence of that ghost's indifference to his words he came to realize that he himself spoke – fierce with heat – from the foot of an empty throne.

I think most short story writers, at one time or another, over the course of several books, naturally skirt near the edge of one genre or another.

There's always a little bit of anticipation - some people call it nerves - the night before, and although I always slept pretty well before big matches, you want to be on edge a little bit to get the best out of yourself.

The smell of fuel, driving on the limit on the edge of sliding, it just gives you a lot of adrenaline.

Sometimes there are films like 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' which turned out better than it deserved to be, but in the case of 'Edge of Tomorrow,' there was just such enthusiasm from fans.

This is how I define grace: you're on the main stage, and it looks like it has been rehearsed 100 times, everything goes so smoothly. That's where I get my confidence and success, from knowing that I have an edge because I know I'm prepared.

The New York world is definitely geared toward fashion. So many people work in the fashion industry, photography, all sorts of satellite businesses that have to do with it, so there's no way that it can't affect you, and it just kind of makes you think with more of a fashion edge.

More birds on a farm mean fewer insects, but most birds won't venture more than a couple hundred yards from the safety of cover. Like many species, their preferred habitat is the edge between forest and field. The biodiversity of the forest edge also helps control predators. As long as the weasels and coyotes have plenty of chipmunks and voles to eat, they're less likely to venture out and prey on the chickens.

It's not a colony," another of the USIC interviewers said, with an edge to her voice. "It's a community. We do not use the word colony.

When language arrives at its own edge, what it finds is not a positivity that contradicts it, but the void that will efface it. Into that void it must go, consenting to come undone in the rumbling, in the immediate negation of what it says, in a silence that is not the intimacy of a secret but a pure outside where words endlessly unravel.

Flamme — l'âme s'effile comme une lame.

A made-up proverb from Dreams of the Compass Rose says, "In the desert, the only god is a well." I love exploring the intensity of such juxtaposition, the dangerous edge.

As a designer, I love to explore user edge cases and figure out what appear to be rules.

Nature does weird things. It lives on the edge. But it is careful to bob and weave from the fatal punch of logical paradox.

Sometimes it whispers. If you stand too close to it, right there on the edge where the candlelight is swallowed by shadow, the darkness talks to you in a voice not its own—a voice you've probably heard before. A lover. A parent. A friend.

Develop the winning edge; small differences in your performance can lead to large differences in your results.

But if intelligence is our only edge, we must learn to use it better, to sharpen it, to understand its limitations and deficiencies—to use it as cats use stealth, as walking sticks use camouflage, to make it the tool of our survival.

Don't you understand? snarled Rincewind. We are going over the Edge, godsdammit! Can't we do anything about it? No! Then I can't see the sense in panicking, said Twoflower calmly.

YOU MUST LEARN THE COMPASSION PROPER TO YOUR TRADE And what's that? A SHARP EDGE.

Mr. Tulip lived his life on that thin line most people occupy just before they haul off and hit someone repeatedly with a wrench.

anger was better than fear. Fear was a damp cold mess, but anger had an edge. She could use it.

What's madness but nobility of soul At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire! I know the purity of pure despair, my shadow pinned against a sweating wall, that place among the rocks--is it a cave, or winding path? The edge is what I have.

I know the purity of pure despair, My shadow pinned against a sweating wall. That place among the rocks—is it a cave, Or winding path? The edge is what I have. — Theodore Roethke, from "In a Dark Time," The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke . (Anchor Books January 10, 1975) Originally published 1961.

Competition is the keen cutting edge of business, always shaving away at costs.