Quotes About Fragmentation

There was a more personal form of fragmentation that plagued postwar America, too—a sense that all the paper-pushing and file cabinets had divided workers from their creativity, rendering them miserable, isolated automatons.

I think one of the primary themes in my work is the paradox of memory, at once fundamental to our sense of who we are and yet elusive, ever-changing, fragmentary. One way to look at this is to say that, therefore, we ourselves are elusive, ever-changing and fragmentary to ourselves.

Because if you are fragmented and uncertain it is terrifying to find the boundaries of yourself melt. Survival in a desert, then, requires that you lose this fragmentation, and fast. It is not a mystical experience, or rather, it is dangerous to attach these sorts of words to it.

La pérdida de la religión cristiana es la causa de la fragmentación que Occidente lleva padeciendo de un tiempo a esta parte y que se está acelerando últimamente. ¿Qué ha pasado? Podemos destacar cinco hitos históricos que han sacudido la civilización occidental a lo largo de los siete últimos siglos y que la han despojado de su fe ancestral:

el mundo occidental vive como si Dios no existiera», dice. «Creo que es verdad. La fragmentación, el miedo, la desorientación y el ir dando tumbos caracterizan a buena parte de nuestra sociedad».

Back a hundred years ago, especially around Woodrow Wilson, what happened in this country is we took freedom and we chopped it into pieces.

No order, no pattern, just chaos. Lots of little universes separated by invisible screens . . .

I have always been tormented by the image of multiplicity of selves. Some days I call it richness, and other days I see it as a disease, a proliferation as dangerous as cancer. My first concept about people around me was that all of them were coordinated into a WHOLE, whereas I was made up of a multitude of selves, of fragments.

I have always been tormented by the image of multiplicity of selves. Some days I call it richness, and other days I see it as a disease, a proliferation as dangerous as cancer. My first concept about people around me was that all of them were coordinated into a whole, whereas I was made of multitude of selves, of fragments.

Perhaps we have built a false concept of wholeness and, under the pressure of an artificial unity, people like June explode and fly in all directions. Some day we may be reassembled into a more truthful whole.

I feel that an initial shock has shattered my wholeness, that I am like a shattered mirror. Each piece has gone off and developed a life of its own. They have not died from the shock (as, in some cases I have seen, women who died from betrayals, go into mourning, abdicate all love, never renew contact with man again), but separated into several selves, and each one developed a life of its own.

M? simt tot timpul ca ?i cum fiecare ar vrea o buc??ic? din mine.

He's a loner who doesn't want to be alone, grappling with the incubus, a rippling of nocturnal waters, the nausea of unending nights. There are troubling moments of prescience, as he intuits future fragmentation, stoically kicking his way through the shards. He's just going to keep on living till he dies. Whether he paints himself in a good or bad light is not the point. The point is to lay stuff out, smooth the curling edges.

I don't have to smile and pretend I'm fine even though inside I feel like I'm breaking into a thousand tiny fragments too small ever to be put together again.

But in the real world, you couldnt really just split a family down the middle, mom on one side, dad the other, with the child equally divided between. It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again. It was what you couldn't see, those tiniest of pieces, that were lost in the severing, and their absence kept everything from being complete.

It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again.

It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again. It was what you couldn't see, those tiniest of pieces, that were lost in the severing, and their absence kept everything from being complete.

Americans' "fatal tendency of disunion.

A little fragment of his heart came loose and was lost to him each time he had to say goodbye to her.

Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone, All just supply, and all relation; Prince, subject, father, son, are things forgot, For every man alone thinks he hath got To be a phoenix, and that then can be None of that kind, of which he is, but he.

There is no complete life. There are only fragments. We are born to have nothing, to have it pour through our hands. And yet, this pouring, this flood of encounters, struggles, dreams...

Time is the river. We are the islands. Time washes around us and flows away and with it flow fragments of our lives. So, little by little, each island shrinks….But where, who can say, down the long stream of time, are our eroded days deposited?

Everything seemed to he breaking up:

I had the impression that, although I was absorbing much of that sight, many things, too many, were scattering around me without letting me grasp them.