Quotes About Liminal

It seems to Werner that in the space between whatever has happened already and whatever is to come hovers an invisible borderland, the known on one side and the unknown on the other.

Kahlo associated this formative experience of seeing her 'second self' on the window-pane of her bedroom with her adult activity as an artist, whose self-portraits also functioned as metaphoric windows, mirrors and liminal spaces of the imagination.

Now, he has the rage of the sun-eater and the sorrow he drank down with Muire's breath, and he is certain of nothing. So he lingers between spaces, liminal, indeterminate, watching for a glimpse of his enemy's face or the face that was never his lover's, and waiting.

O.P.N. has always been about reaching for some kind of liminal state in which opposing aesthetic forces become entangled and confused and equal.

No where, said Merlin quietly, Somewhere. An in-between place.

It was the in-between time, before day leaves and night comes, a time I've never been partial to because of the sadness that lingers in the space between going and coming.

the twilight zone

It feels like we've stepped outside of time. Even though there is no such place.

the threshold between the hospital and its outside was like a threshold between worlds, between media.

The banner between sleep and waking had torn and now people and things were passing through it.

It's a liminal thing, humming, And I'm always interested in liminal things.

Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born.

And the March is a liminal place,' she said almost to herself. 'A border, between one thing and the other. Like a river or the edge of the sea. A place where magic happens, where people disappear and wizards and prophets and poets feel at home.

Borders are liminal spaces. Anyone worthy of the title of 'writer' is a border writer. We all are border people.

It was the in-between time, before day leaves and night comes, a time I've never been partial to because of the sadness that lingers in the space between going and coming.

Our work is borders, crossing them. Borders are a big attraction for me, leaving one country on the way to another, leaving one thought on the way to another, leaving our teens for our twenties, leaving East for West Germany. The liminal is the place to be. The bleeding edge. The demilitarized zones of the psyche, the gray ones of the heart. No-man's-land is yes-man's-land.

She was a liminal goddess who was present at all the boundaries and transitional moments in life. She was also an apotropaic ('evil-averting') protector and guide, as illustrated by some of the many titles she was given. Hekate's triple form emphasised her power over the three realms, these being the heavens, sea and earth.

I opened the door and blinked out into the bright hall. I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.

As I understand it, the Celts venerated all sorts of plexus-type things: the seashore, dawn, dusk, the edge of the forest - anything that was neither here nor there, so to speak.

He was neither asleep nor awake, neither this nor that. It was some new state that he was in, some new kind of nonexistence.

This was the threshold to the place of the dead.

This was the time, when night wasn't quite over but day hadn't quite begun, when thoughts stood out bright and clear and without disguise.

We are in the interstices. In the intervals. We are that which moves between the spaces. Which conjures up the spaces.

Questioning the nature and implications of liminal instances necessarily involves failure, if only in the specifically technical sense of entering spaces where prevailing criteria of success scarcely apply.