Quotes About Fragments

They passed lands that had no name, where fens of mirror pools stretched into unknown distances, thousands of fragments of sky sprinkled across this bastard offspring of earth and sea, lonely birds calling out over the desolation, and Yarvi breathed deep the salt chill and longed for home.

And when our sun explodes and we are all destroyed, we'll be rocks and chunks of I am not sure what, and maybe we'll rain down on somewhere else.

Life is a toy made of glass; it appears to be of inestimable price, but in reality it is very cheap.

Sometimes things are fragile. That's why they're valuable.

Mature as he was, she might yet be able to help him to the building of the rainbow bridge that should connect the prose in us with the passion. Without it we are meaningless fragments, half monks, half beasts, unconnected arches that have never joined into a man.

She was parting from these Wilcoxes for the second time. Paul and his mother, ripple and great wave, had flowed into her life and ebbed out of it forever. The ripple had left no traces behind: the wave had strewn at her feet fragments torn from the unknown. A curious seeker, she stood for a while at the verge of the sea that tells so little, but tells a little, and watched the outgoing of this last tremendous tide.

Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall.

Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

Singing a song with lyrics requires the time-locked integration of varied fragments of recall: the melody that guides the singing, the memory of the words, the memories related to the motor execution.

Dust floats through the feeble beam of the flashlight: ten thousand particles, turning softly, twinkling.

From outside comes a light tinkling, fragments of glass, perhaps, falling into the streets. It sounds both beautiful and strange, as though gemstones were raining from the sky.

Slowly, gratefully, the world settles. From outside comes a light tinkling, fragments of glass, perhaps, falling into the streets. It sounds both beautiful and strange, as though gemstones were raining from the sky.

Beyond the broken window hangs a windless night. Ashes swirling in starlight.

Dar Dumnezeu e doar un ochi alb si rece, un sfert de luna atarnand deasupra fumului, clipind într-una, in timp ce oraÈ™ul e facut praf si pulbere.

Scraps of burned paper float overhead.

To make the script, you need ideas, and for me a lot of times, a final script is made up of many fragments of ideas that came at different times.

Chaos A.D.' starts normal, but then it breaks into all these crazy fragments. But the things that surprised people is what makes the album cool.

What happens to the rest of something when you smash its heart?

You can't stop a mental epidemic. It leaps from person to person across parsecs. It's overwhelmingly contagious. It strikes at the unprotected side, in the place where we lodge the fragments of other such plagues. Who can stop such a thing? Muad'dib hasn't the antidote. The thing has roots in chaos. Can orders reach there?

He didn't use the Jihad, the Jihad used him. I think he would have stopped it by now if he could. You can't stop a mental epidemic. It leaps from person to person across parsecs. It's overwhelmingly contagious. It strikes at the unprotected side, in the place where we lodge the fragments of other such plagues. Who can stop such a thing? Muad'dib hasn't the antidote. The thing has roots in chaos. Can orders reach there?

Webs are made mostly of spaces. They break easily. They barely exist. They belong to the category of half-things: mist, smoke, shrouds, ghosts, membranes, retinas or rags; and they quickly fill up with un-things: old legs and wings and heads and hollow abdomens and body bags of wasps.

y con sólo algunas hebras como vestigio de la noche.

Shattered Glass By Jerry Rosen

not holding hands, but with their hands just meeting, as though not quite sure they weren't dreaming this, each of them separately on their far bereaved cots, their hands but blown fragments of their memories, half afraid to commingle, yet touching over the howling sea at night.