Quotes About Thread

When fate connects an invisible thread between a man and a woman who are bound to be together, no matter how hard they try to fight against their own destiny, they can't change what's meant to be.

You know, it isn't that were particularly good at granting wishes, or finding things or, well, anything . Playing tricks, maybe. but we pay attention. We find the loose thread that everyone else misses and tug. It makes us look so very clever.

Cry about one thing in life, cry about all; one thread runs through the whole piece.

In the very shadows of doubt a thread of reason (so to speak) begins, by whose guidance we shall escape to the clearest light.

To write a song that is remembered and taken to heart is a connection, a touching of bases. A thread that runs through all of us. A stab to the heart. Sometimes

Everyone was connected — I saw it, felt the expansiveness of it, but also understood that such knowledge needed to be parsed into a necessary blindness: to comprehend the magnitude of it would be too much. As much as I had lived, in all my years, I had seen but a corner of the tapestry. A thread .

The thread by which our fate hangs is wearing thin. Not nature, but the "genius of mankind," has knotted the hangman's noose with which it can execute itself at any moment. This is simply another façon de parler for what John called the "wrath of God." 735

So I repeat, that which I thought was the road to hell is strewn with angels. That which seemed dismally cursed held a thread of light. On this narrow thread, stretched like a tightrope, we all balance. Umbrella held high, one foot in front of the other, fearless dancers at the end of this millennium hover above the abyss. Down below, a web of wings cushions our fall.

Needle and thread flesh and bone Spit and sinew, heartbreak is home. Your suture lines, they sparkle like diamonds Bright stars to light my confinement "Stitch,

And high above, depicted in a tower, Sat Conquest, robed in majesty and power, Under a sword that swung above his head, Sharp-edged and hanging by a subtle thread.

Individual men and even entire peoples give little thought to the fact that while each according to this own ways pursues his own ends—often at cross purposes with each other—they unconsciously proceed toward an unknown natural end, as if following a guiding thread; and they work to promote an end they would set little store by, even if they were aware of it.

An individual life is one thread in the tapestry and what is one thread compared to the whole?

Para tí el lenguaje es un hilo inagotable que tejes como si la vida se hiciera al contarla.

Back in the 1800s, girls learned to sew as early as age four. Many of the girls at Kings Landing had never really used a needle and thread before. Being older didn't make their lesson any easier. "I'm always pricking myself," said Krista. "Look on the bright side," said Sarah, "burning yourself on the stove is worse.

When the rain came it came first as the scent of rain, the grey air stained darker behind the hills. Then when it came down to us it was like thread and needles, piercing the jellyish water with a trillion tiny pricks, the silver threads attaching water to sky. And there too was the sound of rain, drumming gently upon the canvas cover where it was stretched taut at the back of the boat. It was so warm.

If memory is the thread of personal identity, history is the thread of community identity.

I believed that our marriage was a fine-spun tapestry, fragile but fixable. We tore it often and mended it, always with a silken thread, lovely but sure to give way.

There is one universe, by the definition of universe. It is not the cosmos we see through our eyes and our telescopes—that is but a single Narrative, a thread winding through a Hemn space shared by many other Narratives besides ours. Each Narrative looks like a cosmos alone, to any consciousness that partakes of it. The Geometers came from other Narratives—until they came here, and joined ours.

The surreal howl wove its way through the cacophony of human voices, a bright, bloody thread in a tapestry of fear.

I believe that over the centuries the experience of beauty has always been similar to the way we feel, as if seen from the back, when we are in the presence of something we are not a part of and do not wish to become a part of at any cost. In that distance lies the slender thread that separates the experience of beauty from other forms of passion.

All the birds that fly hold the thread of infinity in their claws. Germination

Absence has presence, sometimes, and that was what she felt. Absence like crushed-dead grass were something has been and is no longer. Absence where a thread has been ripped, ragged, from a tapestry, leaving a gap that can never be mended.

Down the endless halls of quilt My silver thread of tears is split. My fingerbone the key that broke My blood the oil that smooth the lock.

The appearance of a disease is swift as an arrow; its disappearance slow, like a thread.